Below the Tower
by OutlawEris
Summary: A mix of fairy tales. The prince wants a bride. Cinderella wants him; the Piper wants a place in his orchestra; The rats want out;Rapunzel and Aurora want in. Oh, and the witch wants them all dead. And then comes the ball.
1. Wooled Abominations and Talking Rats

This is my very first fairy tale fic, and I am a little awkward with the genre, so please be gentle in your reviews. Mary is "Mary had a little lamb," Scarlet is "Little Red Riding Hood" and Bo is "Little Bo Peep." Some other characters will enter soon (actually, next chapter). Vermin's origin cannot be disclosed at the present time, as it will ruin my plot twist. Bahaha. Hope you enjoy!  
  
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Mary's POV  
  
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I smiled contentedly to myself, and stroked my soft little lamb. His name was Baby Lumpkins. I named him. Isn't that just the most adorable name for a lamb?  
  
Of course, BO calls her sheep "Little", "Tiny", "Small", and "Mini". Disgusting. I WOULD pity her sheep, in light of their hideous titles, but they were just so stupid and lazy, it was rather difficult to allow them to arouse any emotion but disgust.  
  
How stupid were they, you ask? Well, at the moment, the hideous animals had lost themselves again. Of course, it may have been due to the lengthy conversation Bo and I were having. And I GUESS I could have warned Bo that they were heading over the bridge. But she had been going on and on and ON about how adorable her hideous excuses for sheep were, and I could hardly help smirking inwardly as the "adorable" and "brilliant" beasts meandered moronically across the bridge.  
  
So, I was sitting by myself on our shepherd's rock with darling Baby Lumpkins. Bo was out searching for the abominations, and I was awaiting her return, when Vermin showed up. I sighed, and my gorgeous Baby Lumpkins bleated uncomfortably. Why did this petulance always show up?  
  
Vermin was the swineherd. He had once been a king of the Hyrene people. Roughly translated into our language, it means "rat." So, when he had been captured, our own king, King Dashing IV, had laughed aloud and dubbed him Vermin. Bo thought that it was cruel to demean a person with such a title. But the stupid boy does not even know what it means. I find it amusing, because I am simply disgusted with him. Although he has never said or done anything particularly vilifying, he is so incredibly DIRTY. He had mud and dung all over him, and his stringy dark hair clung to the back of his neck with sweat. There were bloody scratches littering his stick legs, bestowed upon him by the agitated pigs.  
  
I shuddered at the very sight of him. He smiled brightly at me, but all I could see was the gaping black hole where his tooth was supposed to be. My light blue dress shuddered with me, its revulsion as evident as mine.  
  
"'lo there, Mary!" he cried, waving. I forced myself to hide my utter revulsion. "Hello, Vermin," I replied, smiling as brightly as I could. He grinned foolishly in return.  
  
"Bo with you?"  
  
"I am afraid her sheep have wandered off again; they are such stupid beasts. In fact, they remind me quite a bit of her, now that I think of it."  
  
Vermin's face fell. He was obviously crazy for Bo, though I had no idea why. But at least his adoration gave him a reason to leave. I could hardly stand him.  
  
"Oh," he murmured, eyeing his mud-encrusted bare feet shamefully. "I - I only wished to give her some news." My eyebrows perked. We shepherdesses spent nearly all our time out here in the fields. We had very little knowledge of the recent goings-on. And neither, so I thought, did a pig boy.  
  
"What news?" I asked sweetly, appearing quite interested. Vermin smiled, glad at my unexpected attentions. "Prince Charming is throwing a ball to find his lady love, you know. He's inviting the twelve sisters from the neighboring kingdom, and he's inviting almost all the ladies here, too. Rumor is he'll marry anyone, even a peasant or something."  
  
Before I could stop myself, I blurted, "How did a vermin like you find that out?" Vermin's face twisted with emotion. "I -I - sometimes the king calls me in and laughs at me, talking about how low I have been brought. I always have to sit there and listen." His fists tightened with rage. "I have to stand patiently and listen to his drunken, jeering guffaws. So afterwards, I wait outside the throne room and listen to the swine talk, to avenge myself. I'll have the word spread round before his messenger comes, and then won't the beast look stupid!" His eyes flashed mutinously.  
  
"Vermin!" I screeched, and gave him a back-handed blow across the face. He staggered and fell, staining the green grass with his filth. My voice lowered to a hiss. "Please, if anyone were to hear you, they should imprison you." I could only imagine how he would look if he were to languish in there for a few months.  
  
I guess my blow had jarred him back to reality. He nodded humbly. "I apologize," he murmured, eyes downcast. Now I felt guilty. "Oh, Vermin, you need not apologize," I replied, "I was only - only worried for your safety, you understand." I visibly winced when I said that. Eugh! Ah! Eek! Ugh! Blech!  
  
He smiled with only his chapped lips. "Thank you, then," he said. I allowed a slight smile to spread across my face. "Quite welcome, dear."  
  
A white flash burst onto the scene. A horsewoman's brown curls spilled from her red hood as she pulled up beside us on her white steed, breathing heavily, and quickly dismounted. "Mary, dear, consorting with vermin is not good for your health."  
  
I grinned despite myself. "Good day to you as well, Scarlet." Scarlet grinned, forcing a stray curl behind her ears, and then turned to Vermin. "Shoo, rat!" she cried, pushing him roughly. He nodded and trailed away, searching me with his dark eyes. I pretended not to see him.  
  
"So," Scarlet began, "Seen anyone odd lately?" I sighed inwardly. Scarlet had a freakish obsession with strangers. It was her fantasy to have a complete unknown come up and introduce themselves to her, instead of her rushing to them with greetings.  
  
I shrugged. "Besides Vermin, no." Scarlet shuddered. "Those Rats killed my father," she hissed, glowering mercilessly at Vermin's starved body.  
  
"Well, Scarlet," I pointed out, "You need not take it out on someone who was not nearly of age to murder during the war. It is no fault of his that the rat people's warriors killed your father."  
  
"He is the only one left!" she screamed, "He is the one who must pay!"  
  
"He has paid something, I suppose. He is worse off than the pigs, you know. He eats what they leave."  
  
Scarlet shrugged. "I want him dead. I want his limp form to swing in the wind every time I pass the square, so that I may spit upon it!"  
  
I actually glared at her. "Leave him alone, please! It is very unladylike, and your mother always knows when you have been unladylike," I cried. Scarlet nodded. "He is no stranger, anyways," she replied dismissively, waving a hand through the air.  
  
I smiled as she went into a lengthy description of the latest strangers she had seen in the city square. I closed my eyes, hugging my knees, and listened to her vivid caricatures.  
  
"You'll see many strangers at the Prince's ball," I told her absently. Scarlet's face lit up. "A ball? The Prince is having a ball? Heavens, why did you not warn me earlier? Oh, how many unknown souls to discover!" She squealed with delight. "I must attend! Oh, I must!"  
  
"Well, Vermin claims that nearly every girl in the kingdom is to be invited! I am quite sure that you will be given an invite."  
  
That was when Bo appeared over the crest of the hill. And, much to my displeasure, she was leading those accursed sheep.  
  
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	2. Lengthy Hair and Unscathed Hands

Aurora (a.k.a Sleeping Beauty)'s POV  
  
I watched from my spinning wheel as Lady Malifice pulled Rapunzel's hair. "Has it not grown in two days!" she screeched in her witch's voice. Rapunzel glowered wickedly. "Mayhap if you did not murder my ends with you infernal pulling!" she screamed in reply. Lady Malifice sighed and dropped it. She had apparently lost interest.  
  
"How are your fingers?" she asked me irritably. I held up impeccable hands and smiled slightly. "I have not spilt a drop of blood upon your white linen, my lady," I promised, smiling sweetly. She nodded, looking considerably displeased, and stormed out of the room.  
  
Rapunzel sat down in a nearby chair and glowered ferociously. "I hate sitting in this tower all day!" she roared, "And I hate the woman who keeps us in here!" I shrugged. "One must be patient," I replied. I had once been a princess, but like my allies the Hyrene people, I had been taken prisoner and put to work. Luckily, I was not put to labor as a swineherd or something horrid of that nature. Instead, I was lady-in-waiting to the wickedest woman in any kingdom.  
  
Rapunzel was just some girl taken as payment for stolen herbs and slammed into this tower with me. She tended to pout, but I wove dresses for us both to pass the time, all of fine cloth made from my hands. Strange thing was, my hands never once bled during all that stitching. I could prick myself, and the skin never wore away. Of course, I was but fifteen winters, and as the years passed, my hands would likely callus and break as everyone else's. But my lack of hand injury was always a matter of great interest.  
  
I beckoned with the aforementioned hands. "Come now, Rapunzel. Stand and let me see this color against your eyes." She stood, arms crossed and lip protruding. I smiled. Green truly was her color.  
  
"Ah, if there were a ball, dearest friend, than should we have some fun! You would be the most beautiful dame at the ball!" I told her. She blushed furiously, but she could not keep back her giggle. "You only want me to do something," she rebuked. I only smirked merrily, implying that she was indeed correct. We both laughed.  
  
A quiet rap tapped against our chamber door. 'Come in," I ordered, still beaming. A rather dirty, yet still pretty, serving girl came in. She smiled sweetly at us.  
  
"I brought today's meal, my ladies," she said timidly, soft blue eyes downcast. "Of course," I told her, "Place it on the table there." She did as she was bid. "Thank you."  
  
She smiled with much trepidation. I only then noticed her perfect smile. "Here, sweet," I offered, holding forth a bit of cake. "Have some, it is nearly as soft as your smile."  
  
She blushed. "Please do not say things like that," she asked, "It does cause me to blush so." I nodded, but she did take the cake. Poor thing appeared so hungry. I would give it all to her, but I had another visitor I needed to feed.  
  
"Please tell the cook I would like for you to bring all our meals up." She all-and-out grinned then. Her perfect teeth nearly blinded me with their spectacular shine.  
  
As she was leaving, Vermin came by her in the hall. He waved. 'Ella!" he cried. She giggled and hugged him close. "Hope the king was not too cruel," she said. Vermin shook his head. "I never let that boar get to me, you know that." Ella nodded. "I'm glad."  
  
"No serving wicked witches today, eh?"  
  
Ella giggled. "No, Jocelyn, only her ladies-in-waiting. And they are quite nice."  
  
"I KNOW, Ella, there."  
  
"I KNOW you know, Jocelyn, there."  
  
He rolled his eyes and was about to reply when Lady Malifice stepped onto the scene. "CINDERS Ella!" she screeched, pointing angrily at Ella, "And Vermin!" she continued, pointing at the person I now knew to be Jocelyn. Knowing his real name filled me with guilt, when I thought of how I usually addressed him. "GET DOWNSTAIRS!" Lady Malifice screamed.  
  
Vermin's face twisted with misery. His insides were screaming for the food he received from my hands only once a week.  
  
I threw the door open. "My lady!" I nearly screamed. Noticing her expression, I lowered my horribly loud voice. I had never been the ideal princess. "I called for him to clean the cobwebs under the bed! I figured he is so dirty, I could not make him so much as an ounce more filthy with the task."  
  
Lady Malifice nodded, and shoved Vermin towards my room. He waved slightly to Ella as she flew down the stairs, golden locks streaming behind her.  
  
I closed my door behind him. As soon as the wooden latch had been locked, Vermin hit his knees. "Thank you, my lady," he whispered. I smiled. "Get up."  
  
He stood, and an immense pity rose in me. We had been such strong allies before. Boorish Dashing. That was our saying in regard to King Dashing, who had taken both our kingdoms. I offered him the piece of cake and he took it in his dirty hand. A grin of such intense ecstasy spread across his face that I could not help grinning myself. He ate it tiny piece by tiny piece, conversing happily with Rapunzel and me.  
  
Vermin was the only human being besides myself that Rapunzel could stand to converse with. She was usually irritable and moody towards everyone else, fickle beast that she was.  
  
Before I knew it, his piece was gone. He stood and bowed awkwardly. He was the only one in the castle who still addressed me as Princess Aurora. I embraced him before he left, holding my breath against the smell of him. Rapunzel winked at him and he winked in return, saluting as well.  
  
"VERMIN!" someone screamed. His ears cocked and he fled. A member of the Hyrene race was clearly identified by their ears, which they could cock in the direction of a sound. Quite alarming if you did not know what to expect. I sighed. "Sometimes I wish someone would just take him away from here, you know?" I held some deep blue fabric in my fingers. It was wonderfully smooth. Rapunzel nodded her agreement. "And mayhap us as well," she replied moodily, frowning outside the window.  
  
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Ta-da! Thank you sooooo much to everybody who reviewed the first chapter. And Vermin is not Prince Charming. *sorry* I'll reveal his origin after I post two more chapters. But for now here's a hint --- what does Hyrene mean? Add that with someone I mentioned in the summary. That'll help you figure it out.  
  
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	3. Charming Smiles and Sparkling Eyes

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Prince Charming POV  
  
I had to admit, I felt sorry for the Vermin fellow. I stood patiently beside the throne, hands behind my back, while Father berated him. It was hard to meet his eye, especially considering he was a prince. No, wait. He was a king now. His father was dead. I understood how it felt to be under obligation to behave princely at all times, even when a man as boorish as my father was insulting you. Let's just say I could emphasize, as I was not considered quite satisfactory and was often yelled at in a similar manner.  
  
Finally, he was dismissed, and although my father missed it completely, I saw Vermin's long finger as it ran across his neck in a threatening gesture. He knew I was watching him even as he did it, but I suppose when you're a swineherd, you take your chances. I smiled at him, as it were our private joke; because SHE liked him.  
  
The servant girl. The prettiest serving girl in the castle. No, the prettiest serving girl in the world. Correction - the prettiest GIRL in the world. She had a bright, glimmering smile that dazzled me with its radiance. Her gorgeous blue eyes sparkled like stars. No - those eyes outshone the stars that tried in vain to mimic her perfection.  
  
I saw her dashing through the halls after father dismissed me. For some reason, I felt a pulsating need to call her over, and call her by the name of the angels - Ella. "Serving girl!" I barked, flinching inwardly at my own callous remark. But she was oblivious in her kind disposition. "Yes, my lord?" she replied docilely, turning around to look at me. And she spread her rose red lips.  
  
Her smile was radiant. It nearly glowed, flashing at me in all its heavenly glory. That was it. She was officially perfect. "I -I -----" my tongue flapped uselessly in my imperfect mouth. "Oh, dear!" she cried suddenly, tearing towards me. "Look, you have been cut!" She touched me, and I went numb for a few moments. You could have stabbed me through the heart and I would not have noticed.  
  
She released me, watching my face cautiously, as if I should strike at any moment. I stared down at my hand. A long crimson slice ran down my hand in a jagged line, as if it had recently been sliced by someone's pocket knife. Nearly everyone carried one in these imperialistic times. But this seemed so recent, as if it had been delivered but a moment ago.  
  
"Come, my lord," she murmured, taking my unscathed hand in her own. "You must allow me to tend to your wound."  
  
"Of - of course, girl."  
  
She beamed brightly at me and then dragged my semi-conscious body towards the serving quarters. Once we were inside the shabby attic room, she gently forced me onto her straw mattress. There were numerous identical mattresses strewn about the floor, each claiming its own small territory. Ragged shawls and spare smocks scattered the territory of some servants, while others had useful items littering their area. There were drawings and scribbled names pasted on the wall, and some torn portraits scattered amongst the wreckage.  
  
Around Ella's mattress, there was the typical shabby shawl, the single spare smock, and in a spare kerchief, some medical supplies. A dagger was sticking from the underside of her mattress, warning thieves. And, wait, there was something else hidden under her mattress. It was a ball gown! I was sure of it, looking at the sleeve. An old one, to be sure, but still---  
  
"Now wait but a moment," she interrupted, following my gaze nervously. She stood from her search and brandished poultice material. With a few deft movements, my hand was bandaged. "There!" she cried exultantly, beaming that seraphic expression. I grinned foolishly in return for a moment, basking in the glow of her grin. Suddenly, I realized where I was and whom it was I smiled at. I forced the grin that cried to appear off of my face. "Thank you, serving gi--- what was your name?"  
  
"Ella, my lord."  
  
I had thought that speaking that name would be the most heavenly sensation on earth. But I was wrong. Hearing and watching her perfect lips form the perfect name was totally and infinitely superior to my own pronunciation. She stood back up and gestured towards the door. "Come, your majesty," she murmured. Standing up, I wondered what type of stories she enjoyed. Humorous? Adventure? Romance? I wanted to know, so that next time I saw her I could casually drop an anecdote of that particular type and impress her - if ever so slightly. Maybe then she would reply, and we could have another conversation. We had had one more before - one day in the library. My father had given me a particularly insulting lecture/berating, and I was sulking among the books that comforted me. She had been cleaning the shelves, humming to herself as she went about her work. And, for no reason at all, she had asked what book it was I read. I had replied. And we had still been talking four hours later when my father came into the room.  
  
I stood near her now, basking in her radiant glow. I wanted so badly to talk to her again. But Father would never approve. I looked down at her ragged dress in despair and secretly thought that she would look much better in a ball gown than the other ladies of court. So much better. And that was when I saw the dagger hidden in her apron pocket, stained with VERY recent blood.  
  
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A/N: I wasn't planning to update until the weekend, but my server is acting up, so I figured - better safe than sorry, right? Just a few notes:  
  
Okay, when I said be gentle, I didn't mean you couldn't criticize. Open minds are often the fullest. I just didn't want anyone to be TOO harsh with the criticism. Any help is welcome. And thank you SO much for reviewing! And if you've guessed what fairy tale Vermin is from, don't tell! It's going to be my little secret, okay? Thanks beforehand.  
  
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	4. Puffer Fish and Fractious Minstrels

Mary POV  
  
Bo and I were coming around the door of the castle. I sighed. "If only we could attend the ball," I said to her. She nodded. "It is nearly sheering time, and my darlings would make such a dress with their wool."  
  
I shrugged. "I guess they would," was my nonchalant reply. As if I should ever admit to those revolting creatures having one speck of talent! I never! The shearing from their covering would probably knot and curl into clumpy fabric. Bah!  
  
We rounded the corner of the royal castle, and stepped onto the cobblestone path leading to the citadel's entrance. After all, the sheep were in for the day and the cook usually gave us a bowl of stew for our work. We came in sight of the door. And there was the strangest girl I had ever seen.  
  
She was standing on the grey stone steps, bouncing up and down and slapping her thighs expectantly as she awaited the arrival of the doorman. Her strawberry blonde hair was chopped off like a boy's and topped by a grungy, once-scarlet cap with an orange feather. She wore a motley array of various crimson and orange shades patched together for a tunic, with dark brown leather boots up to her knees. She was wearing skin-tight crimson leggings under her numerous folds of cloth, and they were tucked into her boots. And a strange sling was slung over her shoulder. It, like the rest of her, was a motley of scarlet and tangerine. But inside was a simple wooden pipe.  
  
She heard us approaching, and turned around to smile disarmingly, green eyes dancing. "Why, hello there! My name is Piper. Do you know how I should be attending this ball I hear about?"  
  
I turned to look at Bo. She turned to look at me. We locked eyes and shrugged, then turned back to our strange new acquaintance. "Are you a citizen of this kingdom?" I asked her politely, straightening my dress. She shrugged. "I be a citizen of whatever country I come to," she replied.  
  
"Oh," I murmured. "Well, did you receive an invitation?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Are you someone's lady-in-waiting?"  
  
"Nome."  
  
"Do you know anyone of the royal house?"  
  
"Can't say I do."  
  
"A lord or lady of this land?"  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Are you a hired minstrel, then?"  
  
She paused, fingering her lower lip delicately. "Well, one could say that," she replied, a wry smirk on her face.  
  
I smiled. Now we were getting somewhere. "Come with me to the kitchens, then, miss. We shall see you are given an interview. Only the finest play for our king." The minstrel only smirked again. "We shall see," she informed me.  
  
We entered the kitchens through a door on the side of the castle. Cook Hilda sighed at the sight of us, but she allowed us entrance. "I have a minstrel," I told her, "and the sheep are done grazing, so don't start whining at me. And, no, I do not know where Vermin is."  
  
Cook looked our girl up and down. "ELLA!" she bellowed. A timid, frightened- looking wisp of a girl appeared at her sight instantly. She was pretty. In fact, I thought enviously, she was beautiful. "Yes, Dame?" she asked obediently, clasping both hands together.  
  
Hilda motioned towards Piper. "Take her to the blue room, with Mary. Bo can go out and tend the sheep for now."  
  
I followed the kitchen girl and Piper out the door of the kitchens and out to the marble hall. Our feet clacked along the hard stone, except for Ella's, since she wore no shoes. I gazed lazily at the myriad of antiquarian portraits that surrounded us on all sides. My feet pounded with the constant motion.  
  
"Here we are," Ella said, motioning sweetly towards the door. Piper bowed to her. "Thank you, my lady. You have been most helpful," she said. I gasped. She BOWED to a serving girl! Wrench my very heart from my chest! I only nodded towards Ella, determined to maintain a decent air, even if my comrade was so prone to condescendence. Ella patiently lingered by the entrance until both of us were safely in the room. Then she left us to a conference with the abomination of all music - the prince's cousin.  
  
Lord Archibald Thornytoad was a weedy man. His nose jutted from his face like a horizontal mountain peak, threatening to poke the eyes out of any musician fractious enough to defy his opinions of their performance. Large eyes protruded from his face, and it was my personal belief that this particular homely aspect was created by a relative squeezing his cheeks too hard when he was a child. That would also account for the pinched, prim lips that pursed even farther when he was displeased, so that the man was immediately transformed into an enraged puffer fish.  
  
He adjusted his spectacles, peering curiously at Piper. "You will need to change that inappropriate attire," he informed her, "Ladies should be seen in dresses, not -" His lips curled as he pondered this woman's clothing - "RAGS."  
  
Piper frowned in response. "If my music pleases you well enough, should I not be allowed to dress as I choose?" she snapped, crossing both arms irritably. This was not the typical response from minstrels. When Lord Thornytoad insulted them, they nodded timidly and apologized frantically for their miniscule faults, which under the eye of the abominable royal cousin, were multiplied a hundredfold. Piper's irritability came as quite the shock to our fish man, who clutched his throat and pursed his lips, face reddening. It was a strong resemblance to a fish out of water. I smirked inwardly.  
  
"Excuse me?" he spluttered, gasping for air. Piper shrugged. "I need my ROBES in order to perform at my pinnacle. If you want second-rate for your king, then I guess I ought to warn him, eh?" She raised a threatening eyebrow. I could tell right away. NO ONE messed with this lady.  
  
Lord Thornytoad spluttered and guzzled a quick glass of water. This fluid somehow composed him, further supporting my fish theory. He wheezed heavily for a few moments, hand on pulsating heart. "No - no. That won't be necessary. You may wear those, em, "robes" ---- if your playing is up to snuff." He grinned wickedly, and I could tell from his weasel expression that there was no way in the universe Piper was going to be categorized under "Up to snuff." Not after the show she'd put on.  
  
But cocky, confident Piper simply lifted her flute to her lips and began. And I was dumbstruck. She could play like no one I had ever heard. The low notes were rich, and the high notes tinkled. The melody was beautiful, and the timing was godly. I was entranced.  
  
Suddenly, the tune came to a halt. I blinked. It seemed as if the room had been emptied before my very eyes. I sighed remorsefully despite myself, and turned to look at Lord Thornytoad.  
  
He sniffed. "That was the most beautiful music I have ever heard," he said, looking at Piper. She grinned. "But it was completely inappropriate for a ball. Too entrancing, you understand. Not up to snuff for dancing. Good day."  
  
Piper's mouth dropped open, and she stood gaping angrily at the royal dimwit, tears forming in her eyes. "I-I cannot believe you would-"  
  
"Good DAY, my lady."  
  
I caught Piper's sleeve and dragged her through the door. But she wasn't finished with him yet. Wrenching her sleeve from my grasp, Piper ran towards Lord Thornytoad.  
  
"You want to know something?" she spat, pointing at him, "When we die, we are going to a greater force for judgment. We shall reap what we sow. And may I promise you, my lord, that you SHALL REAP the fruits of the injustice and anger you sow today! Both in this world and in the next!"  
  
With that, Piper flew from the room in a fluster. Had she just threatened him? I curtsied politely to Lord Thornytoad and muttered a few insincere words of thanks. Yes, how about - thanks for being a jerk? Thanks for bringing down Piper so that my self-esteem can be boosted? Thanks for making me appear so utterly kind in comparison to your behavior? I could say that, I suppose. Only if I wanted my head to be staring at me from the floor.  
  
Piper could walk much faster than me, without the annoying hindrance of a dress to curb her fluid motion. It was rather difficult and demeaning work keeping pace, considering my skirts required above-the-knee hoisting. "Hold!" I screeched, stumbling and fumbling in her wake. "Please! Piper, wait! I can't- waaaaah!"  
  
I went tumbling to the ground, arms flailing. My skirts lay tangled in a heap round my ankles and knees, ripped up the seam of my left hip. I sighed irritably and got to my knees, huffing moodily about irritable musicians and their obstreperous tendencies.  
  
I peered up at Piper, who was standing above me. "Eesh," she murmured, "I would hate to see you in some real petticoats." I simpered. "Yes, I am a tad clumsy when running breakneck after a miffed minstrel, whose feet are not confined to the boundaries of a dress," was my irritable response. My acquaintance only smiled at me. "I do suppose I had a head start on you, there," she pondered, helping me to my feet.  
  
I brushed the dust and dirt off of my blue dress, and began inspecting the tear. It was, thank goodness, nothing I could not repair, and was also kind enough not to reveal anything. Then I remembered. "Oh dear! I have left Baby Lumpkins all alone with those lack wit creatures of Bo's! My poor baby!"  
  
I grabbed my dress and bolted. Piper stood in deep thought for a moment, and then decided to follow me, screaming at the top of her lungs, "Who's Baby Lumpkins?!"  
  
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	5. Amphibious Nemesis and Angelic Affection...

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Prince Charming POV  
  
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"Of course, Archibald," I murmured, watching my father. My cousin, six years my elder, was reviewing the list of musicians for the ball, and which waltzes would be played. Waltzes? Eugh! And I was going to have dance one of those awful things with every single girl in the ballroom. I sighed. "How about some more lively dances? Like the ones that the peasants use?" I suggested, looking at my cousin, and NOT my father. Archibald raised an eyebrow. "Why ever would Your Highness wish for one of those?" he asked, dripping with revulsion. I instinctively backed off. But then I remembered - I was the prince! And he was just a lord. Ha-ha. Bite me. You lose. "Because a good queen would understand the rituals of both the peasants and the nobility," I replied, quite courteously, considering the circumstances.  
  
I raised both eyebrows at him and allowed a snide smile to flicker across my face. Yield, my amphibious nemesis. He sneered in response. "Of course, milord, but we must consider our elderly guests when planning a dance." Danged scaly resilience.  
  
"They do not take part in the waltzes either, so it would hardly matter if we were slow about it or not!" I was getting ticked off. Who was he to correct me, the condescending simpleton?  
  
"Charming, stop," my father ordered, placing a heavy hand on my shoulder. In every particle, I wanted to shove him off and tell him that I was going to marry a serving girl, and that I would spit upon every noble woman in the ballroom. But I complied like I always do, and let him have his way. "Yes, father," I muttered docilely. Archibald sneered at me, and I made a mental note to sic the enchanted evil frying pan on him later. After all, it had teeth. Sharp, pointy teeth - quite nice.  
  
"I knew you would see things my way, cousin," Archibald said. I glowered at him. "Your Highness to you, slime." My father gave me one of his "you worthless whelp" looks. I looked down at my feet, which I am told are too large, the only flaw about me. Sometimes I wished I was flawed - you know, pock-marked, ugly, clumsy, hit myself with a sword before I struck my opponent, whimpered over paper cuts. Unfortunately, I was from a long line of Dashings and Charmings and all other manner of ridiculously presumptuous names. How did my father know I was going to be charming? Wait - am I charming? How did his father know he was going to be dashing? But he isn't really dashing! My head was spinning.  
  
But I knew one thing - my children were going to have normal names. No daughter of mine was going to be called Buttercup or Rosebud. And I would certainly not name one of my sons Dashing or Brilliant. Please. No foresight in those titles. What if my daughter were allergic to flowers? Or my son was ugly and a horrible scholar?  
  
I caved like I always did, and Archibald leered boastingly at me. Sometimes I wished that someone would throw him off a bridge. Heck, maybe I could.  
  
Just then, Ella passed by, carrying a heavy load of laundry. My eyes followed her slender form instinctively as she edged passed Archibald. My cousin grinned wickedly and stuck his foot out. Ella tripped over it and the freshly washed clothing flew everywhere. Her gorgeous elbows skidded on the marble, and she began to bleed. Archibald laughed obnoxiously.  
  
I shoved him viciously. He staggered and fell down the stairs. Sadly, he did not sustain any life-threatening injuries. My father glowered at me, and I knew what that look meant. I was to take Archibald's hand and help him up. Over my dead body.  
  
I bent down and helped Ella to pick up her baggage. My father tried to compensate for my rudeness by helping the worthless Archibald. I completely ignored my own audacity, and bent to help Ella. She smiled gratefully at me, and gathered the washing into another bundle. I folded what I lifted, but I must admit I did quite the clumsy job of it.  
  
When there was no more fabric on the floor, she looked over at me and smiled that heavenly smile. The clouds must have opened up and spilt sunlight somewhere, that smile was so seraphic. "Thank you, Your Majesty," she murmured, pushing her hair behind her ear as she stood. I stood as well, and for a moment, we remained that way, staring at each other. Her blue eyes were sparkling, and her perfect lips were upturned in a gentle toothless smile.  
  
She leaned forward the slightest touch, with the grace of an elf, and kissed my cheek. With a last tiny wave, she set off down the hall, carting her bundle cheerfully. I had never really understood why the ladies of the court swooned, but right then, I understood how the urge came.  
  
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I admit I took the enchanted frying pan from Patricia C. Wrede's Enchanted Forest books. But I couldn't resist. And thanks for your reviews!  
  
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	6. Audacious Foreigners and Chivalrous Knig...

A/N: Woo-hoo! I updated w/ two chapters at once! Actually, it was a mistake. I was writing both of 'em at the same time, trying to figure which one to post first. Then both of them were done. So I posted both! Enter s'more princes!  
  
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Aurora POV  
  
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The earliest rays of rose petal sunlight fell upon my face. I held my eyelids together, enjoying the warming sensation. I could feel Rapunzel's warm arm slapped across my chest, but it seemed lighter than usual under that godly ray of light.  
  
And then I opened my eyes. Rapunzel and I had to share a bed, since Lady Malifice claimed there was not room enough for each of us to have our own. I flung my comrade's arm off of me and sat up. Rapunzel groaned slightly, shifting. I sniffed irritably at the sweaty residue her arm's presence had left across my nightshift.  
  
"You're washing this," I snapped, placing my bare feet against the frigid stone of the castle floor. Rapunzel only snorted. She was an unconquerable snorer. I batted her arm playfully and grinned. "I get the bath first," I claimed, and she immediately opened her eyes. "No you don't," She whined, 'It's my turn."  
  
"Not if I get there first," I challenged, leaping towards the door. She screeched and flung back the covers, racing after me. "Oh, you little-" I only laughed.  
  
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Two hours later, both Rapunzel and I were dressed and bathed. Of course I had caved, and allowed her to go first. What else was I going to do? My only motive was getting the lazy slug out of bed.  
  
I was braiding her somewhat damp hair. The snarled mess ran far past her ankles, and she was always threatening to chop it off, claiming such a lengthy mane was an insult to her new roots. I listened to her prattle, running my fingers gently through the worst tangles, and then adding the new detangled hair to her braid.  
  
She was wearing the green dress I had finished yesterday, and if I do say so myself, it complimented her form PERFECTLY. She looked gorgeous. I loved the feel of her auburn hair. It was so thick and wavy, so unlike my own thin, straight hair.  
  
I was in a pale pink gown, and had a thin golden circlet round my head. I was still a princess to someone, and I would act that way.  
  
"Mayhap we can go pick flowers today," I suggested merrily, "And then we can braid the poppies into your hair." Rapunzel nodded. "That would be splendid," she replied.  
  
So we asked Lady Malifice as politely as we could. She nodded. Her headache was too vexing for her to concern herself with us.  
  
We plowed out into that meadow as fast as we could. No need to wait for her to change her mind.  
  
The sun was shining, and the birds were singing. A few young lords were out hawking, but we knew them to be dolts and sexists, so we kept far away from them. Rapunzel chose tiny white flowers for her hair, and I set them into the braid and one dangled ever so nicely from a stray hair on her left side, that I glanced over the imperfection. We were laughing and giggling as she stuck blue flowers in my hair, when a stranger rode up beside us.  
  
He was, I must admit, quite handsome. He had dark hair that ran almost to his shoulders, and deep brown eyes. When he smiled down at us, the green flecks in those eyes were highlighted nicely. Beside him was another young man, but he was no stranger. He was the youngest son of a neighboring king, the Prince Tarrant. Tarrant was not particularly handsome, but he was the bravest and most honorable of all knights in this kingdom and beyond. I adored him.  
  
Tarrant was the first of our two visitors off of his horse. He bowed politely to Rapunzel, taking her hand in his own and kissing it. She replied with a friendly curtsy. He nodded and then came to me. My heart fluttered within me as he bent double over. Rapunzel peered at him, and then looked at me. She nodded roguishly. I rolled my eyes at her. He took my hand in his own and kissed it. "Such perfect hands, my lady," he whispered. I blushed furiously for some reason, unbeknownst to me. I thanked him quietly, and warned him not to say such things in the presence of Lady Malifice, as she would surely give him one of her famed screeching lectures.  
  
"If you would but murmur in the background," he told me, "all her corrections should be drowned out." I smiled. "Ah, but one so noble as you could surely undergo that small torture," I replied.  
  
Rapunzel rolled her eyes. I knew that the way I flirted with Tarrant was almost as bad as the way that Tarrant flirted with me. "Who is your guest, Tar Rat?" Rapunzel snapped. She and Tarrant had obviously known each other since childhood. They competed fiercely in every event, especially wits. Tarrant blushed only slightly at her statement, though his ears reddened considerably. He hated her annoying nicknames. "His name is Dante. He comes from my kingdom, and is the son of a lord." Dante appeared quite uncomfortable.  
  
"Come now, Tarrant," he said, dismounting, "My rank is of no consequence." Rapunzel could not resist.  
  
"Not in comparison to your stench," she snapped. She liked to get the formalities over with quickly. But Dante, it appears, seemed to be just as quick. "And I suppose it is your goal to die a cantankerous spinster who will mock my wife for choosing me?" He seemed to catch himself at the last moment, because he clutched a hand to his mouth.  
  
"My - I - please do not - I---" But Rapunzel flung back her head and laughed benevolently. Dante's chin dropped. "You are the first male who had the gumption to retort, even if was not a good go at it!" she cried. Dante raised an eloquent eyebrow.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"Do it again. Insult me."  
  
Dante shifted uncomfortably, and then met her eyes. "You are unusually rude."  
  
"And you are unusually hideous."  
  
"I am surprised I have not turned to stone from the sight of you."  
  
"Bah! It is because I am so horrified by your appearance that any affect I may have had on you has dissipated!"  
  
"Fool!"  
  
"Simpleton!"  
  
"Imbecile!"  
  
"Pig!"  
  
Suddenly, Dante laughed. Rapunzel smiled at him. And then she turned to peer at Tarrant. "If Dante does not mind, may I take him to the trail through the woods?" she asked, "It is every visitor's favorite aspect of our land."  
  
I grinned to myself. Rapunzel was an adept fibber. The trail through the woods was actually the most romantic spot in the kingdom, NOT the most popular. So, Rapunzel liked this foreign darkness. Well, more Tarrant for me, I suppose.  
  
Dante shrugged. "I am only here for a few days. I suppose I should see the best of this kingdom," he commented, staring at Tarrant. His friend smiled. "Go ahead, then. I shall stay here with Aurora, if she permits me." He raised one fine eyebrow, smiling wryly. Well, my answer was obvious.  
  
"Of course you may, Tarrant," I said delicately, forcing my voice to show very little enthusiasm, when, in fact, I was ecstatic. He grinned boyishly at me, and that innocent expression, with its mature beauty, was SO endearing. My heart melted.  
  
Charming, perfect, gorgeous, chivalrous, brave, humorous, compassionate, strong and young - my Tarrant was the pinnacle of male existence.  
  
I almost kissed him. The impulse to embrace him was remarkably intense. I leaned forward, my eyes and mind intent on that smile. And then Dante's horse nickered.  
  
Both Tarrant and I looked bashfully away from each other. A slight blush spread across his face as he turned his eyes to Dante. "Are you leaving?" he asked. Rapunzel put her arms on her hips. "Honestly, Tarrant!" she sighed, "I do need a horse, my friend." She gestured at his own steed. Tarrant blew on his long bangs. "Go ahead, madam," he cried, flailing long arms at the beast. "Please do not encourage it in matters of disobedience, as is your custom."  
  
Rapunzel squealed uncharacteristically and leaped onto the horse. "Thank you a million times, dear companion!" she cried, and then turned to Dante. "Race you to the edge of the woods."  
  
Dante's lip twisted wryly, lifting upward. "If my obvious victory can be called a race. More a conquering, you understand."  
  
Rapunzel kicked her own mount into action, and whizzing past him, knocked him from the saddle. Dante cried out, arms thrashing through the air, as he fell. Rapunzel giggled madly, calling insults as she whizzed towards the forest. In spite of Dante's confusion, my composed Tarrant grabbed the bridle and quickly calmed the horse with his smooth voice.  
  
Dante was soon up again, hair astray and sticking up. But his eyes had a new resilience in them. Rapunzel laughed mockingly once more as she rocketed towards the wood. Her friend leaped into the saddle. "I am coming, dearest enemy!" he cried, kicking the animal into motion.  
  
Tarrant rolled his eyes at me. "Ah, the native rituals," he muttered. I giggled. I had been in love with him since childhood. When I was nine years old, my sister and her friends had cornered me in a hall, and were abashing me horridly with their comments. I was near tears. Tarrant had come upon the scene, and immediately, he had so insulted my sister on the matter of her morality and conduct that his father had thrashed him upon hearing of it from my tattling beast of an older sibling. I had idolized him since that day he had so bravely taken his thrashing, making not a sound throughout its entirety. And during the adult's ball, when we were supposed to stay out of the way, he had danced out on the balcony with me, away from their gaze, despite my clumsiness. He had been my hero, my protector. And for once, I got something my sister didn't.  
  
He smiled at me. "I am sorry you have lost your kingdom," he said quietly, taking my hands in his own. I shrugged, watching the grass instead of his angelic face. "It is of no consequence. I was not to have gained a thing by it. It was my sister's by right." I met his crystal eyes once more. "It is she to whom you should offer condolences."  
  
His eyes deepened with hurt. "Why are you so cold, Aurora?" he asked. "This formality - what have I done that you behave so?"  
  
My eyes watered. "You have done nothing, Tarrant! I swear! I - it is only so long since I have been able to speak candidly with someone - besides Rapunzel, of course." Tarrant still did not trust my word. I must admit, it was hardly eloquent. It sounded like a half-wit boldfaced lie.  
  
"Really, Tarrant! I just - " Before I could stop myself, the words were out. "I just missed you so much, so HORRIBLY much, and I didn't know if you would think it presumptuous of me to be friendly!" That was horrible. "I'm sorry!" Definitely not my usual Tarrant conversation. I was ruining it! No! No! No!  
  
He started, flinching as if I had struck him. "Please, Aurora," he asked quietly, "Please do not lie to make me feel better."  
  
"No -Tarrant - I am telling the -"  
  
With uncharacteristic rudeness, he bowed curtly to me. "I apologize for infringing upon your valuable time, my lady. I must go to greet the king." And then he turned his back to me, leaving me to myself, in a green field that had suddenly become grey.  
  
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	7. Wicker Cabinets and Docile Fronts

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A/N: A bunch of short chapters posted this time. They're basically full of preparations for the ball, revenge, meetings, etc.  
  
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I made my way slowly down the hall towards the kitchen. Imagine, that pig of a man named Archibald, insulting MY Charming. Well, I'd soon fix that.  
  
I blinked a few times, and quickly pulled two or three strands of hair out of braid so as to look innocent. I was sure to widen my eyes slightly, and hang my head timidly as I shuffled inside, clasping my delicate hands together docilely. Suckers fell for it every time.  
  
"Madame?" I murmured, raising my eyes from the floor ever so timidly. The cook turned around to stare at me. She was presently the only one in the kitchen, as the kitchen lads were currently embroiled in a battle with the flying cauldron outside in the yard.  
  
"Yes, Aurora?" she replied, humming as she stirred the royal stew. I simpered. "My lord Archibald wishes to see you in his rooms," I said. She stopped stirring and sighed. "If that man calls me one more bloody time to complain about the taste of his food, I'll knock his yellow teeth out, the old -" Cook continued with some more colorful language as she stormed out of the kitchen. I grinned wickedly.  
  
To the left of the fireplace was an old wicker cabinet, kept shut by an iron padlock. I grabbed the rusted key that hung beside it, and rammed it into the lock. Inside, there was a very special frying pan. A frying pan with teeth. A frying pan that was my friend, and would do absolutely ANYTHING for me.  
  
And that included chasing Archibald.  
  
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	8. Abrupt Meetings and Ambiguous Plans

A/N: Okay, so the last chapter was REALLY short. This one's pretty short, too. But hey, you were warned. Thanks for your reviews! Please R&R!  
  
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Piper and I were headed for the fields, where Bo awaited us. I had tiny, warm Lumpkins in my arms, and he was bleating happily, cuddling against my chest. I squeezed him tight, smiling foolishly.  
  
And then Vermin and Piper crashed into each other. She hit the earth square on her tailbone, and he was thrown into a stable wall. Piper, to no one's surprise, was on her feet first. She grabbed Vermin by his hair and dragged him to his feet. "Look at my costume!" she screamed, "You oaf! I won't be able to perform in this mockery!" She pinned him roughly to the stable's outer wall, still by his hair. "What do you have to say?"  
  
"You were moving. I was stationary. You crashed into me."  
  
Piper's eyes lost their vicious fire. "Oh," was all she said as she dropped him to the ground. He stood up, appearing quite angered. "I apologize for your clumsiness, my lady," he snapped, and bent over in a quick bow.  
  
Piper peered curiously at him, raising an eloquent eyebrow, and then she smiled. "That was dangerously cheeky of you, churl."  
  
"I am a dethroned king. Breathing is a danger."  
  
"True. But I could have you flogged for rude behavior towards a lady."  
  
Vermin shrugged docilely. "As you wish, milady," he replied aloud, bowing his head politely. But under the mess of hair hiding his face, he smirked wickedly. "You do not appear the typical lady," he muttered to himself. Piper caught the snide remark, and Vermin knew it as soon as the phrase left his lips. "I - I - I am sorry, my lady." He lifted his head again and then bowed it reluctantly.  
  
Piper laughed loudly. "You are most certainly not, pig boy." Vermin smiled slightly. "I prefer rat boy," he replied. I smiled at him. Finally, someone else for him to pay attention to. Now he could bother Piper.  
  
But Piper seemed to be truly enjoying herself. She grinned. "What's your name?"  
  
"I am called Vermin."  
  
"I did not ask what you were called."  
  
"My actual name is Jocelyn. But that is irrelevant, considering my current position." He gestured helplessly at his swineherd attire.  
  
"Not to me, Jocelyn. I belong to no land, and follow no dim-witted king's rules."  
  
Jocelyn's mouth dropped open. "Where do you live?" he asked, eyes dancing with fantastic ideas. Piper shrugged. "I live on the roads, traveling from land to land and performing for anyone who will see me - and occasionally for those who won't."  
  
Vermin/Jocelyn grinned. "That sounds brilliant," he murmured. Piper beamed at him. "Then mayhap you will come with me when I leave here."  
  
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	9. Concurrent Charades and Anticipated Invi...

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Aurora POV  
  
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Rapunzel was prattling about how marvelous her charming Dante was, large mouth flapping extravagantly. I was staring intently at my embroidery, pretending to hear her, murmuring my assent every few seconds to assure my ever-watchful companion that I was indeed paying attention to her excess praising of the somewhat lacking Dante.  
  
"He is just so incredibly suave, Rora. You can't believe it."  
  
"Mm-hmm."  
  
Somehow, Rapunzel caught on to my act.  
  
"And he is just so adorable when he smiles!"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"And so much cuter than Tarrant."  
  
"Obviously."  
  
"I mean, that Tarrant is extremely boorish, don't you agree?"  
  
"Most assuredly."  
  
She raised one eyebrow at me. "And of course, you aren't listening to a word I say, are you?" she asked.  
  
"Mmm-hmm."  
  
"AURORA!" she screeched. My body twitched skyward, and I leapt so high into the air I fell out of my chair. Rapunzel, contrary to polite behavior, smirked from her seat while I struggled to regain my former pose. And when I had finally seated myself in a more flattering position, she laughed aloud at my disheveled appearance. Charming, that one is.  
  
"Why ever did you frighten me?" I asked, forcing my tongue to tell polite while my head told insults. She raised a condescending eyebrow. "You had already been inside for nearly an hour when Dante and I returned. Usually, you are out in the fields with 'precious' Tarrant for hours, walking around and conversing incessantly. What happened?"  
  
"I don't know - I-how did you know I was here for nearly an hour?"  
  
"You had added an entire dark purple flower to your new gown, simple one. That showed you had been embroidering for at least forty five minutes."  
  
"Glad to know I am so predictable."  
  
"Glad to alert you to the fact."  
  
I sniffed, sounding injured. "I guess you don't want to know what happened." Rapunzel's eyes widened. I knew how to get that gossip every time. "No, it is not that," she promised, "It is just ---"  
  
A delicate knock glanced our door, causing a slight ripple of sound to flow through the air towards us. I quickly placed the dress on a waiting vacant chair, and rose to greet whoever was knocking. The handle of the door was unusually cool as I threw open our confine.  
  
A nervous messenger was quaking by the threshold. He held a delicate letter on a silver tray. "My - my lady?" he asked nervously, "My lady Aurora? Or is it Lady Rapunzel I have the pleasure of addressing?"  
  
"I am the lady Aurora. How are you today, good sir?"  
  
The messenger nearly fainted when I smiled at him. I guess he wasn't used to being addressed as "good sir." My mistake, I suppose. "Is that message for me?" I asked, desperate to change the subject. He nodded meekly, and held the shining tray towards me. I lifted the letter off of its resting place and nodded at him. "You may leave now," I ordered. Nodding frantically in return, he scurried away. A slight smile drifted over my lips. The royal seal was on this one.  
  
I had no sooner closed the door then Rapunzel leaped up and tore the message form my hands. "The royal seal!" she squealed, "We are invited to the ball!" She flung my invitation at me and then resumed sitting in order to better decipher her own. I flailed in an attempt to retrieve the floating paper, and finally managed to snag the extreme left corner between my fingernails. "That was a decided lack of cordiality, Rapunzel," I sniffed. She shrugged, poring over her message. "For me, dear, that WAS cordial. I mean, I took the time to throw it in your general direction, didn't I?"  
  
Oblivious to my attempt at a response, she prattled on. 'Screw the prince, I want to know if that suave young Dante is eligible. Now THAT is someone who's courtship I would be interested in." She grinned. "I will have to ask if he got an invitation. And don't worry, I'll be sure to find out if "darling" Tarrant received one, also. But they might have invited him solely to entertain others with his idiocy. You know, a dancing monkey type of thing." I rolled my eyes at her and surveyed my letter. It went on about how the king was sorry if anyone was hurt by his son's refusal, but that was the way the dice rolled when you were squabbling over HIS son. Bah! The prince was charming, of course, but not compared to the adorable and gorgeous Tarrant of Rose. Yes, Rose is a moronic name for a country, but some of Tarrant's countrymen are less than intelligent.  
  
I allowed my invitation to drift slowly to the floor. And that was when the strangest looking freak show in all of folklore popped beside my chair.  
  
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	10. Fae Guardians and Clandestine Enchantmen...

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A/N: Firstly, Ella is not toothless. I just used that to mean smiling without her teeth. And I am so sorry I haven't updated lately. Updates will be much more frequent now, because I've finished writing this! I had to, so that updates would actually happen during the school year. So please R & R this chapter if you guys want me to continue at all! Reviewers are praised in a shrine.  
  
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Aurora POV  
  
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This freak had stringy green hair that was streaked with many different strands of blue and purple. She had long elven ears, but where the point was supposed to be, a curl of excess skin resided instead, turning into a delicate spiral formation. It was actually rather fantastic when you got used to it. She had one rose-colored and one brown eye. And she looked pretty bad.  
  
She held a wand, but it was bent in many different places, and a strand of phoenix tail was hanging from the tip. There were numerous bruises on her face and arms, and her lip was bleeding, among other things. Dirt stained her starved face. "Are you Aurora?" she murmured quickly, looking quite faint.  
  
"Well, I might ask -"  
  
The fairy girl erupted. "Listen, I don't have time for this!" she screeched at me. "My mother will be here any moment, and if she finds what I have done --"  
  
She collapsed into a chair, eyes closed. I forced myself to behave cordially, because I felt more pity than loathing for this fae girl. "Would you like to take a seat?" I asked sweetly.  
  
"I can sit down," she murmured gratefully in reply. For a moment, she closed her eyes, exultant in this seemingly simple privilege. Rapunzel raised her eyebrow at me. I shrugged. The fae girl grinned in ecstasy. "No more standing," she continued breathlessly. And then a sense of purpose consumed her. The tired eyes ignited with flame. I was swiftly and brutally interrogated.  
  
"Have your hands ever bled?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Do you spin often?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"With a spindle?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Your spindle is not blunt?"  
  
"It is quite sharp."  
  
She breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "How old are you?" she asked, laying back down against the back of the chair and closing both eyes. A great peace had overtaken her. "Sixteen the day after tomorrow, the same day as the ball" I replied. Both eyes popped open. She suddenly clutched her heart. "S-S-SIXTEEN?" she screamed. I nodded.  
  
She howled at the roof and stomped her feet, moaning in anger and rage. "I should have known!" she bellowed, "I should have known it would never work! Never! Never!" She clutched her skull and wailed again.  
  
"Please explain" I begged, "Have I caused you any grief?" She nodded. "I shall try to make this quick," she began, "so don't ask any questions, please." I nodded my assent. She was obviously in a hurry, and a proper princess always conceded to the guest. "When you were born," she began, "one of the twelve fairies in the land was not invited to be your fairy godmother. She grew extremely angry when she heard of it, and cast a spell on you, claiming that at the age of sixteen you should prick your finger upon a spindle and die, and all those in your family or service would sleep for a hundred years, and consequently, die. That WITCH was the fairy Delphi Corona. You know her as Lady Malifice."  
  
I gasped. This could not be true! No- but she always seemed miffed that I received no hand injury. It could be --- But before I could interrupt, she continued. "But I - I cast a spell that protected your hands from injury, and my friend cast a disarming spell. It kind of --- weaves through the air and removes any harmful strands of magic. We all thought you were fine. But we were wrong." She groaned again.  
  
"However, Malifice knew you were not protected. I understand it now. She is my mother. Being her daughter, I could not completely undo or prevent any spell of her casting. For years, I wondered why she had locked me in that dungeon, where I could not sit for SEVEN YEARS! Seven years I stayed upright, falling asleep on my feet!" She screeched in rage, using some fae language I could not decipher. She composed herself. "But now - now I know. I cannot protect you! Once you hit sixteen, you will prick your finger! You will!" She screeched. "But the spell's effect will be lessened. Yes, it will be lessened. You may not die. Only sleep. Only sleep. But for a hundred years! By magic! Surely it is death! But your true love would have to---But you must escape before she gets to you! You must! She cannot ---"  
  
Lady Malifice stepped into the room. She set eyes upon the girl and screamed. "You escaped! You little ---" She lunged towards her daughter.  
  
My benefactor, my fairy godmother by fault, disappeared in one quick burst of green flame. And I was suddenly feeling a bit queasy about my birthday.  
  
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A/N: So how do you like it? The ball is where it gets really good. I am quite proud of that part. 


	11. Saucy Pots and Intriguing Visions

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Mary POV  
  
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I screeched and flung both arms around Bo. She giggled in return. "I can't believe WE were invited!" she squealed. We laughed foolishly together and collapsed on the bright grass, clutching our invites.  
  
A few moments later, Vermin was standing over us. "Hello, Bo," he said. She sat up and smiled. "Hello!" she replied brightly, contrasting his gloomy look. "I see you were invited to the ball," he continued.  
  
"Yes! Isn't it positively wonderful?"  
  
"I suppose so."  
  
"Of course, I'll have to plot my dress."  
  
"I suppose you will."  
  
He tried to smile, but his mouth ended up twisting into a grimace of intense homeliness. Bo sighed. "Were you invited?" she asked stupidly.  
  
"No."  
  
I glowered at Bo for her rudeness. "It won't be that great anyways," I offered, turning back to Vermin/Jocelyn. He shrugged. "I wouldn't want to go anyways, you know. The king wouldn't be able to resist plunging a dagger into my back. And it isn't likely the prince is going to marry ME."  
  
Bo giggled frivolously, and I grinned. "You never know," Bo continued, and sent all of us into mad laughter. I stood up, helping Bo to join me. "And Piper isn't going either," I told him.  
  
In reply, he grinned slyly. "So the story goes," he replied. I raised one of my eyebrows. "Pardon?" I asked. He smiled. "She and I are planning something for Lord Thornytoad," he replied, joy written all over his face. I smiled nervously in return. "Good luck!"  
  
Bo looked jealous that someone else was receiving all of Vermin/Jocelyn's attention. And I decided that using both names had gone on long enough. I seriously needed to find out what name he preferred.  
  
"Um-can I ask you something?" I asked. He shrugged. "Of course."  
  
"Which name do you prefer?" I questioned. He paused, chewing on the inside of his cheek and staring off into the distance. I wondered if he was watching his fellow countrymen, who were working in the fields. Or maybe his eyes were fixed on the food in the king's orchards. He turned back to me. "I suppose you should continue to call me Vermin," he told me, "The king would be livid if he knew that I told anyone my real name." I could understand that logic. King Dashing hated Vermin as it was; he did not need much of an extra cause to torment him. "Yes, we do not need to give him any more reason to loathe you," I agreed.  
  
He smiled. "Not that I didn't like you calling me by my real name," he said, a hint of nostalgia in his expression. Bo grinned. "And not that we didn't like calling you by your first name," she added.  
  
"Bah!" she cried, as if suddenly remembering something. She grabbed an apple from her pocket. Bo had pockets all over her apron; it was actually quite ridiculous. "There! I almost forgot it," she said, offering the food to Vermin. He took it happily and beamed at her. Well, it was a rather dirty beam, but still a smile. She grinned in return. "Sorry I forgot it last week," she mumbled. He shrugged. "That's fine. It was worth the wait." He took a bite of it ecstatically. Bo laughed and began to tell him about some instance with her stupid sheep. They plopped down on the grass and fell into conversation.  
  
I trotted away to find Piper. What exactly were those two planning? Vermin HATED Lord Thornytoad. I hoped she knew that.  
  
I entered the castle through the kitchen door, as Piper was constantly trying to weasel food out of the kitchen lad that was sweet on her. But instead of finding Piper, I found Lady Malifice. She was alone in the kitchens, probably because the royal family was having dinner at the time, and all the servants stood at attention along the walls while they dined. She was standing over the cauldron, murmuring some words. The pot was glowing green.  
  
"Little brat," she muttered, oblivious to my presence, "The PRINCESS Aurora. Bah! She and that Rapunzel are going down!" She threw another cloud of shimmering dust into the pot and flung her arms into the air. "SHOW ME AURUORA'S TRUE LOVE!" she screeched.  
  
"Make me," the pot snapped in reply. Lady Malifice dropped her outstretched arms. "Excuse me?" she asked, raising a carved eyebrow. The pot replied again, "Make me!" Lady Malifice's hands tightened into threatening fists. "When I tell you to do something, you do it," she ordered. Any such command would have frightened servants out of their wits. But I suppose kitchen appliances are oblivious.  
  
"No! You made me smell like horse dung!"  
  
"Would you like to become horse dung, cheeky?"  
  
"Make me!"  
  
Lady Malifice looked a little confused, to say the least. But she was not discouraged in the least. "I AM THE FAIRY DELPHI CORONA, POT!! CARE TO CROSS ME AGAIN?!" she bellowed. The pot sent an image sailing into the air. It featured a handsome blonde young man with blue eyes. He was sitting in an inn up the road from the castle, talking to another man, a dark-haired one whose eyes were shrouded, but twinkling. He looked awfully sad, staring into his ale with glistening eyes. The dark-haired man was trying to comfort him, but he was quite brokenhearted.  
  
"Tell me his name," Lady Malifice hissed, "That I may kill him."  
  
Kill him?! I decided that right about now would be time to intervene.  
  
"My - my lady?" I stammered, pretending that I had recently arrived from outside. She whirled around and snapped her fingers. The handsome man's face disappeared and a thick stew appeared in the pot. "Yes, dear?" she replied, smiling falsely. "Oh, nothing, milady," I replied docilely, "I just needed to get through."  
  
She grinned, eyebrow twitching, and allowed me passage. As soon as I was out, I knew what I had to do. I had to find Aurora.  
  
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A/N: Hehe. Thanks so much for all your reviews! You guys are the best! *claps excitedly* Hope you liked this chapter!  
  
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	12. Enraged Sovereigns and CrossDressing Lad...

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Mary POV  
  
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I was heading down the halls for Aurora's room. I had to tell her what Lady Malifice tried to do. I had to! I paused halfway to wave to Vermin, who was talking to Ella. He grinned and waved in return. Ella gestured to me as well. And that was when disaster struck.  
  
King Dashing, drunk as possible while still standing, came out of one of the doors. At that same moment, Ella said, "Can you help me with something, Jocelyn?" I froze. Toads and weasels. King Dashing grabbed Vermin by his collar and slammed him into the wall. "You little pest!" he screamed, and threw him onto the ground. Vermin screamed in return, but his was a cry of pain, not defiance. "Who gave you permission to use that name?" He threw him into the wall again, and continued to pick him up and throw him down again and again. Vermin groaned. "I -I."  
  
Ella finally intervened. "Please! Your Highness, I - he did not tell me that name! I - I overheard it when some of the Hyrene workers were talking about him. They called him King Jocelyn. They have not heard of his new name, you understand." She smiled timidly at him, almost apologizing. King Dashing, who was holding Vermin aloft at the moment, dropped him, but there was still anger in his eyes. "Very well, then," he replied, but his voice still trailed with venom. He turned and stormed curtly from the room, heading down the stairwell I had just come up.  
  
Ella rushed over to Vermin, who was so still and pale he seemed not to be breathing. She knelt down and murmured something. He turned a death-white face to her and whispered, "He'll kill me." Ella smiled consolingly and brushed back his bangs. "Hush, dear. I'm sure he would do no such thing." Vermin shook his head, blankly watching the wall opposite him. "He will. He promised that if I ever used that name in his sight, he'd gut me." He seemed unable to even comprehend what had just happened, much less respond to it. But it seemed odd that he would think that. Ella knew well as I that Dashing would give Vermin grief for using that name, but kill him? I did not think even Dashing was that ruthless.  
  
Ella stroked his head as if he were a child, trying to gain a response of any kind, but his only answer was to blink five or six times. I quickly hurried by, staring at them with pity. Ella smiled frailly, but Vermin never turned his head - all that he watched was floor between his feet. She was still running her fingers through his hair when I left them.  
  
I knocked on Aurora's door. No one answered. I knocked again, and the response was the same. Not a sound to reply. Where was she?  
  
"Lady Aurora?" I called nervously, rapping again. Instantly, the door swung open, and Lady Rapunzel grabbed me round the waist. She threw me into the room and slammed the door behind her. I staggered backwards and landed square on my tailbone. It was a rather painful experience, but I was relieved nonetheless.  
  
"Where is Aurora?" I cried. Rapunzel, I noticed with a start, was wearing a sword, and she frowned at me. Her auburn hair was braided tightly behind her neck, and she had on man's clothing. I blinked a few times in astonishment. "My - my lady?"  
  
Rapunzel grinned. "Vermin stole them for me, right under Archibald's nose. They're great, aren't they?" I shrugged. So she did resemble a man with her hair like that, and in boy's clothes, but I guess there must have been some reason for her outrageous attire. "Of course."  
  
Aurora trailed over to us. "Hello, Mary. Why were you looking for me?" she asked, smiling gently. Her fingers played nervously with strands of her hair. Now, as important as I knew my message was, my curiosity got the better of me.  
  
"Why is Rapunzel dressed like that?"  
  
Aurora sighed despondently, and sat down in one of the chairs. Her face was pale with fear, so she gestured to Rapunzel. "We're holing up in here!" the latter cried exuberantly, arms akimbo and a grin on her face. "Open defiance of Lady Malifice, that wicked old crone!" She cackled wickedly in demonic expectation. Aurora smiled faintly. "Yes, Rapunzel has seen fit to lock both of us in here."  
  
"But my ladies, you must come out! There is someone in dire troub-" Rapunzel clamped a hand brusquely over my mouth. Her green eyes surveyed the scene suspiciously. "Malifice," she hissed. It was then I noticed the slight patter of footsteps in the hallway. Aurora blanched, her pale face twisting with fright. She ran for the back room, clutching her skirts as if they were life preservers. Rapunzel drew her sword and threw me out the door. I spun from the force of her shove and landed on my tailbone again.  
  
The wooden door clicked shut behind me, and I imagine that Rapunzel bolted it. I stood up, brushing off my skirts disdainfully. This poor dress was getting such a beating. Well, at least she hadn't ripped any hems. I soothed some of the many wrinkles in my sleeves, and adjusted my askew locks. Sometimes that Lady Rapunzel was too boisterous for her own good.  
  
Lady Malifice strode right past the door, not seeming to notice that Rapunzel was barring the entrance with chairs and other furniture, as was obvious from the sounds inside there. She nodded curtly to me and walked briskly past the scene, glowering.  
  
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A/N: Yay! The next chapter is the beginning of the ball! *claps happily* You can't tell me you're not excited, eh? Hehe. Anyways, the real plot comes during the ball. Everything comes together. Heehee. And, once again, you reviewers rock!!!! 


	13. THE BALL I: Irritating Fabric and Repeti...

A/N: Yay! The ball commences. Two chapters this time, because you guys were SOOOO nice in your reviews last chapter!!! You made my day.  
  
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THE BALL  
  
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Charming POV  
  
I itched my leg. Silk was a horrible fabric, I decided. It was ugly as anything, especially in bright red, and it irritated the skin like a rash would. Silk rash. Yes, that was most assuredly what I had. I wondered vaguely if one could be allergic to silk.  
  
"Charming, stop," my father snapped. I sighed, and rested my chin in my hands. It was positively boring, sitting here in my throne next to father. Archibald was over by the orchestra, conducting them in the most boorish of all waltzes. I yawned loudly, and my father punched me in the arm. "You will behave," he ordered. I nodded, rubbing the bruise that was forming, but my eyelids were drooping. Rodents and boars, these people were so boring. They were gorgeous, every one of them, but what of their minds? Or lack thereof?  
  
"My name is Lady Odelia of Mark," the latest ditz began, curtsying. "Good for you," I muttered. My father smacked me upside the head. That really hurt. I winced. As if my headache wasn't painful enough without his interference.  
  
"I enjoy needlepoint, dancing, playing the piano, and singing. I have a very nice voice, if I do say so myself." She placed a fine hand against her chest, smiling invitingly. "Sure you do," I mumbled into my hand. My father slapped me on the crown again.  
  
"That is positively fascinating," I promised, smiling with all the fondness I could muster. The wench had gotten me three whacks. And just so she could mumble about how interesting she was.  
  
"My name is Lady Maria of Hilled Land," the next droned, curtsying. "I enjoy needlepoint, dancing, playing the flute, and singing. I have quite a lovely voice, if I do say so my--" I sighed loudly, so noisily, in fact, that she stopped midway, reddening. My father walloped my head again, and I leaned forward to avoid another blow. This was going to be one heck of a night.  
  
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Ella POV  
  
I was standing in a long line of princesses, wearing my old white ball gown. I had bathed in the river beforehand, and I must say I was ravishing. My mother's old diamond earrings were on my ears, and I wore an outrageously expensive tiara. My hair, after being wetted, was in tight, pretty curls. I was going to blow everyone else out of the water.  
  
Thoroughly disinterested, I watched the entertainment with some degree of interest. They had hired this dance group, the Twelve Dancing Princesses, to perform a jig for us. Problem was, their partners were shady characters, and had left with all the money. Also, the poor dears kept wearing out pairs of shoes. Pity, they were decent performers.  
  
"My name is Lady Delphi, and I come from Titan," the girl in front of me began. Charming muttered something into his hands, probably about her massive bulk. His father smacked him so hard he fell forward in his seat. I growled. If that man struck my darling one more time, I'd sick the pan on him.  
  
Speaking of the enchanted frying pan, my eyes fell over to Archibald, and I grinned wickedly. There were several bite marks across his face and arms, and I knew there was one on his rump, as I'd seen him running around with my many-toothed buddy clinging to him in a "most inappropriate" area.  
  
Lady Delphi finished and stepped back into the crowd. Charming muttered another nasty comment, and his father whacked him again. I stepped forward.  
  
"My name is Lady Eleanor of White Grove," I began. Charming's head shot up, and he grinned. "I enjoy swimming, writing letters, long conversation, and of course, reading. My personal favorites are Greek myths." Charming was practically out of his chair.  
  
"Father! That's the girl. Please let me dance with her! Please! I know that none of these other ditzes are - ouch! - going to impress me like she has! She's beautiful; she's smart; she's - oh, please Father, let me - ouch! - dance with her! Yes, right now! She's -ouch! - really- don't hit me again - she's just the most perfect - ouch! - please let me"  
  
King Dashing smacked him so hard he fell out of his seat and stumbled down the steps of the dais until he came to rest at my feet. He grinned at me from his position on all fours. "Can I dance with you, Ella?" he asked, crawling onto his knees. It was almost like a proposal of marriage. I nodded graciously and helped him to his feet. He smiled, circlet hanging askew. "Well, then, to the dance floor, I suppose?"  
  
I grinned. He'd chosen me! He'd chosen me without a pause of contemplation. He'd even recognized my face. Oh, my sweet, adorable, brave Charming! I never stopped smiling throughout the entirety of our dance together. My head was on his shoulder, and we muttered about everything we could for the longest time. I noticed that the other dancers had left the floor, but do you think I really cared? He kissed the side of my face once, and his father stood up. "You little brat! You horrible, wicked, disobedient little boy!" He went on and on about how Charming should have been thrashed more often as a child, and that he should have been kept in the stables until he was seven, and made to eat once every three days, etc. etc. We both ignored him.  
  
I smiled as Charming rested his head against my shoulder, as I had laid mine against his. Suddenly, Archibald cut the music. Charming's head jerked up, and he glowered ferociously at his cousin. "Well," Archibald began, grinning broadly, "It appears that everyone has left the dance floor for now, so we'll just chat with everyone for a while, won't we?"  
  
Charming started towards him, but thought better of it when he saw his father heading towards him. "Aw, grease and tallow," he mumbled, and flew out of the room without so much as a kiss good-bye. Dashing followed his son out the door. My lower lip trembled. He'd left me, just like that - alone.  
  
Dashing was going down.  
  
I followed them out the door, sure to run as fast as I could, despite the hindrance of my skirts. Dashing was running after his son, though I wondered exactly what he planned to do once he caught him. Probably smack him around, drag him inside, force him to apologize to all the ladies, and lock him in his room for a few days.  
  
I stared down at my feet. His crown. I tenderly picked it up and hugged it fondly, though the points of the golden wreath dug into my arms. Poor Charming.  
  
Suddenly, the king stopped short in his pursuit of Charming and turned quickly in the opposite direction. I couldn't understand exactly what he was chasing after, but for some reason he sprinted pell-mell to the left.  
  
If only I had looked to see where he ran.  
  
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	14. THE BALL II: Enchanted Threats and Flour...

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Aurora POV  
  
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Rapunzel rammed another piece of furniture against the door. "I don't think, so, you witch!" she screeched, leaning against it and panting. The sword she had so proudly adorned was still lying in its scabbard, and she had resorted to piling furniture against the entrance. Lady Malifice was trying to break in.  
  
I was huddled in a corner, hidden behind the curtains. Rapunzel had warned me not to come out even if the door was opened, for my own safety.  
  
The lady I had trusted for quite some time was trying to lift the door off its hinges with her spells, but for some reason it wasn't working. I was guessing that piece work came from the hands of my fairy godmother. Finally, realizing she could not break in, she backed off, glowering. Rapunzel sensed a retreat and sank to the floor, gasping for breath.  
  
"OH, REALLY?" I flinched at the sound of her voice. "WELL, MAYBE YOU'LL BE SO KIND AS TO TELL AURORA THAT SHE SHOULD COME OUT IF SHE DOESN'T WANT TO SEE TARRANT OF ROSE'S HEAD BLOWN OFF!"  
  
I flew out of my hiding place. "Rapunzel, we have to - she cannot hurt him!" My outstretched arms reached desperately for the door handle, but my friend caught me round the waist and slung me onto the ground. "No, Aurora. She'll kill you, remember?"  
  
I screeched in rage. "Don't you dare, Lady Malifice!" I kicked my feet helplessly against the floor in protest, flailing my arms like a child in a temper. "No! No! No!" I pulled at my hair, still pounding the floor with my feet. Oh, that witch. Oh, that horrid, wicked, little -  
  
Lady Malifice laughed cruelly. "Don't worry, darling. You'll soon be joining him." I heard her retreating footsteps pounding down the hallway, mocking me with their obnoxious two-step. I stared in loathing at Rapunzel, who was innocently piling furniture against the door. And I lost it.  
  
I grabbed Rapunzel by the hair. She squealed. "Aurora! What are you doing?" I threw open the door of an armeau she thankfully had forgotten to amass, and threw her inside of it. She screamed and tried to kick my face. Instead, she caught my stomach, but I was relentless. I slammed the door shut, leaning all my weight against it. She very nearly broke though, but I quickly snapped the handle off so she would be unable to escape.  
  
Next, in a frenzy of strength I had most assuredly lacked beforehand, I flung all the pillows, tables, chairs and bed sheets out of my way. I was getting to Tarrant if it killed me. Rapunzel's screeches of indignation wafted through my ears occasionally, but I was too intent on the task at hand to truly give them much attention.  
  
Finally, Rapunzel's massive barrier was gone, though I had bruised my knuckle. I grasped that handle as if it were my life's support, and threw open the door.  
  
I raced down the hallway, and my head was spinning with worry. If Tarrant died, I would never forgive myself. I simply would not be able to breathe if his death was my doing. I ended up on the balcony hanging over the ballroom. It was actually a rather pleasant view, if one was not looking for someone.  
  
And then I saw him. He was slumped dejectedly against a column, spilling wine out of his glass onto the nearby tablecloth. A good amount was dripping down the side of his leg, staining his black pants and pooling into his boots. But he seemed quite oblivious to the matter. Dante strode gallantly over to him, abandoning a recent dance partner. They exchanged a few words, and Dante's grin strained. But Tarrant dismissed him with a flick of his hand, turning his head away dismally.  
  
"Tarrant!" I screamed, leaning over the balcony. He peered up, startled. This time he actually dropped the wineglass and it spilled all over his tunic, which was, unfortunately, a very light tan color. When he saw me, his face lit up with happiness. He shoved a slim lady in bright magenta out of his path. She landed atop a large balding man in glowing orange, and began a long chain of collapses.  
  
But he was oblivious as he raced up the set of stairs opposite my side of the balcony. There should have been a second set, there really should have. He was going to have to run so far to reach me, poor dear.  
  
I turned to survey his path, seeing as he was already halfway up the stairs, and I did not want to ruin the moment. Maybe I should meet him in the middle. And that was then I saw it.  
  
It was so small, frail in its angelic glow. But it drew me in. That lithe wisp of glitter hovering just beside a doorway. You see, the balcony was curved, with a hallway on my side, and a stairway on the other. But all around the crimson oval walls were pearly doors leading to guest rooms.  
  
I stepped forward, entranced by the glow. Oh, how the shiny object called me. It beckoned me to come closer, that I might fully bask in the beauty of its glow. Tarrant had reached me by now, arms outstretched, but I shoved him roughly out of my path. That object was far more important.  
  
He smashed into the white railing, and contracted a vicious whiplash injury to his neck. Later, Dante would tell me that he was nearly in tears from my rejection a few minutes afterwards. At that moment, I did not hear him wailing my name; I did not hear the loud laughter of the dancers below. I saw only that crystalline radiance beckoning me. My feet strode silently forward in a mechanical fashion. I was glowing with the need to touch that wisp of smoke that burned its image in my mind over and over again, until I could hardly contain my urge to touch it, grasp it, make it mine.  
  
I followed the hand into a dark room. But the darkness was banished in that ethereal glow that called to me with a loud, screaming voice of thunder and beauty and marvel and wonder.  
  
My hand reached out for the marvelous object.  
  
A tiny trickle of blood made its slow path down my finger. The blaze was vanquished in one ghastly moment of realization as the fiends of shade leapt up and swallowed me.  
  
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A/N: Worry not; there is more of the ball to come. Please R&R, and even if you only read, I hope you enjoy!!! 


	15. THE BALL III: Imperial Wounds & Uncouth

A/N: Hello all! To answer a few questions from the reviewers. A.) Charming ran out because his father was coming after him. B.) A note about the identity of Jocelyn - My sister says I read weird fairy tales, and that no one will guess it. *sigh* C.) You guys are the best readers ever!!!! You write awesome reviews and have such great taste in stories! (hehehe). Here we reach a climactic/ actually plot-possessing chapter. *oohs and aahs from the well-paid audience* Enjoy!  
  
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MARY POV  
  
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I scowled, fists clenched as I marched out into the royal gardens. Of all the audacity! The moron! Yes, he had been adorable - such an adorable shepherd. Both Bo and I had been watching him for weeks now as he sat watching his sheep. He was especially gorgeous on summer days when he would take off his shirt off.  
  
But he chose Bo! Bo! Bo and her idiotic sheep, their dimwitted mouths hanging slack as they stared out at a world glazed by their cocked eyes. Argh! I yanked at my hair furiously, stomping down the stairs and huffing over the rejection of my sheep's Adonis.  
  
Oh, he made my blood boil! My dress was neat and wrinkle free tonight (I had given the old hag down the lane a whole handkerchief for the spell), and every hair was in place. Why then did he choose Bo - Bo, as she chomped obnoxiously on her fried meats, sauce dribbling slowly down her uncouth chin and onto her collar. And yet he sat beside her, brilliant eyes full of adoration as she mumbled about her sheep through mouthfuls of thick gravy and chicken.  
  
I screeched in rage, tearing at my former masterpiece of curls. I could still see the absolute love that shone in his eyes as he gazed at the cockeyed expression of my fellow shepherdess and her soiled clothing. I felt the envy of before renewed as I remembered the delicate art that I had made of eating, the pinnacle of perfection I had constructed at conversation.  
  
Oh, it had all been so perfectly planned! So beautifully executed! So ---- I screeched in surprise as I tripped over something warm and fell onto my stomach, gasping for air. What in the realms of weasels?  
  
Someone groaned. I blinked a few times and turned myself round, still lying on the ground. There was Jocelyn, face twisting with anguish beneath my left boot. I briskly lifted my foot and smoothed over my skirts, exposing his contorting features. "What are you doing lying there?" I barked, still furious at the humiliation of letting my skirts fall over his face. He gasped for air. "It hurts so much," he whispered, trying to sit up.  
  
"What? Tripping? Get over---" My mouth dropped open as I saw the dagger sticking from his stomach. He whimpered. "Grease and tallow---" He tried to stand, and fell back to his knees. "Baldechrit!" (The latter I knew to be a particularly obscene Hyrene curse) I stood, still in shock.  
  
"I will go to the royal physicians, Jocelyn. I promise that they will come; I will make them." His miserable eyes followed after me as I raced up the stairs, beautifully shined boots clacking against the light elegant steps of cement. And I experienced strange guilt from the sight of my own frivolity. Someone was dying and I worried about the gloss of my shoes. Where was my sense of reality?  
  
I dashed up the steps even more quickly. Who in the realms of toads had stabbed him? He hardly posed a political threat to anyone, not even the highly disliked Dashing. He was nobody - nothing. What motive could anyone have to kill him?  
  
And why did he wince when I said his name?  
  
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	16. THE BALL IV: Faye Verdure and A Sovereig...

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Ella POV  
  
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Charming was nowhere in sight as I prowled through the darkness. I did not like the shade of the gardens. There were too many walls and flowers. Walls could trap you even without your consent, and some flowers could turn out to be deadly. (We can thank the cursed fairies for THAT) I tread cautiously, searching for him.  
  
I ended up on a large set of stone steps, flanked on both sides by open fields of gorgeous wildflowers. Charming stood at the base of my perch, his white tunic stained with a darker shade.  
  
I raced down the stairs, lifting my skirts delicately. The scent of jasmine and lavender drifted lazily into my nostrils, tempting me to lure him into the fields and forget what I saw. Charming stared up at me, and his eyes were wide with horror. Piper was standing beside him, fists clenched in anger. She looked up at me, and her face was livid with rage.  
  
Jocelyn whimpered from where he lay on the stairs. She looked compassionately down at him. He was bleeding very badly, and an elaborate dagger - weasels, it was awfully elaborate - protruded from his stomach. She grabbed his shoulder and dragged him to his feet. He yelped in pain as she draped his arm round her shoulders. "Calm down, I'll tend that for you. It'll be fine. It isn't a bad wound at all." My eyebrows shot upward, and I turned to Charming, who shrugged, mouth twitching like he would vomit. "Don't bother," Jocelyn replied, hunching over and clutching his stomach, "He'll do it again." Just who in the kingdoms of mole rats was "he"?  
  
Piper sighed. "I have a secret for you, Jocelyn. The pipe isn't exactly what it -" Suddenly, a dozen royal physicians came streaming down the steps. One of them ripped Jocelyn from Piper's firm hold, and they all streamed down the stairs in an animal stampede. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Piper howled, clenching both fists as she hollered. They ignored her and threw Jocelyn roughly on the ground. He yelped a Hyrene curse that I won't translate, but they were all surrounding him, backs to us.  
  
"Get off him!' Piper shrieked, flailing her arms madly. Not a one of them paid her any heed. She glowered at their impassive backs, eyebrow and upper lip both twitching in unison. "Time to get help."  
  
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A/N: Slight cliffhanger, eh? I hope you enjoyed your loverly double dose of chapterage, and you guys rock my socks! (The socks with sheep on them, of course, in honor of Mary and Bo. hehe) 


	17. THE BALL V: Herculean Tresses and a Dull...

A/N: Well, I know that you dear readers must be fantasy fans, so I had to share this with you. I got to meet Tamora Pierce! I was one seat away from her! I know it's kind of weird to share this little fact of my life, but I just thought she was the coolest lady I'd ever met!!!  
  
And now, ladies and gents, we have a first-time narrator on the floor this go-round. Miss Rapunzel is taking the floor and indulges in a little jealous Tarrant trashing.  
  
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Rapunzel POV  
  
***** ****** *****  
  
I finally hacked my way through that annoying wooden door. The wood chips splintered my skin, bursting from the final blow of my sword. I was going to KILL Aurora.  
  
I raced out into the hall, just in time to see moron Tarrant save himself from tears. "What are you weeping about, idiot?" I bellowed, "Aurora's just about to get herself killed, and you're moping in a corner. What happened, did you fall and hurt your finger?"  
  
Tarrant, in his typical chivalrous fashion, ignored my comment and stood up, unsheathing his sword. "Who dares harm Aurora?" he cried, trying to sound manly, but his premature voice cracked a little when he said her name. I rolled my eyes. Aurora might have been into that gallantry crap, but I had no time for the knight in shining spandex.  
  
"Where'd she go when she shoved you, dimwit?" I yelped. He blinked a few times. "The room," he finally said, after what seemed like an hour's contemplation. Good show, simpleton.  
  
I raced for the only open door in sight, and threw it open, quickly followed by Tarrant. Dante was heading behind him; I could hear the musical tread of his footsteps. Now there was some sweet music to my ear – well, Aurora came first, I suppose.  
  
She was draped in her usual gorgeous fashion on the floor. Even after fainting, she managed to look graceful. None of her hair was in her face; it all lay spread in a golden mass of heaven about her perfect face, which was cool and confident despite the shock that must have been going through her when she collapsed. Her dress revealed nothing; her sleeves were not askew; her eyes were closed; she was breathing delicately, spindle still clasped frailly in her limp hand. I hated her.  
  
Tarrant rushed over to his beloved, lifting her head off the floor lovingly. She was breathing, even someone thick as Tarrant noticed that. He looked up at Dante, lower lip trembling. "What's wrong with her?" he whimpered, stroking her hair absently.  
  
"Magic," Dante answered matter-of-factly, "Probably an apple, or a comb, or a spind-" He collapsed onto his face. Lady Malifice stood above him, brandishing a large, heavy object that made my stomach flip in tight circles. A wand. About the size of a club.  
  
"What did you do to Aurora?" Tarrant cried, standing up and drawing his sword. Lady Malifice laughed. "I put the brat into a sleep of a hundred years, you foolish boy, and now she will die, because I am the only one who knows how to awaken her." Tarrant paused in misery, letting his sword drop to his side.  
  
She whacked him, and that was her fatal mistake.  
  
He fell onto his face – right on top of Aurora. Their lips met briefly before both bodies hit the floor, but that was all it took. Aurora's eyes fluttered open, and Tarrant's were wide with pain and shock. His lip was bleeding from the impact. She smiled at him, hair finally falling askew into her face. "Oh, Tarrant, you saved me."  
  
While she kissed Stupid over there, I had to save her sorry hide. Lady Malifice took advantage of their passions and raised her club. I did the only thing I could, and spun around. My braid whacked her hard in the face, and she staggered backwards onto her tailbone. Ha-ha, sucker.  
  
Dante smiled approvingly at me. "Can we use that thing as an escape route?" He kicked Lady Malifice in the head as she tried to right herself. I winced. "You must really be daft if you think I'm going to go through that."  
  
I screamed in pain. "Tarrant, you need to lose some serious weight, understood?" Weasels, he was ripping my hair out of my head. Aurora had already descended, and was anxiously awaiting Tarrant's arrival. I, on the other hand, was leaning the back of my neck against the sill in a most uncomfortable position. In addition, there was a wet glop of bird dung hanging above my head, threatening to fall any minute.  
  
Dante followed Tarrant, and though I would not admit it, he was much heavier. Probably more muscle, I consoled myself. And of course, at that opportune moment, Lady Malifice chose to stir. She lunged at me. I squealed in terror and planted one of my large feet on her forehead, trying desperately to hold her back. Oh, my back was killing me.  
  
She was clawing behind my hold, lashing at my legs with a force. I screamed for help. This rabid sucker wasn't going to give up. "Dante! Tarrant! She's awake! Get the heck up –"  
  
Suddenly, someone jerked on my braid – and I mean, really jerked on it. My legs flipped upward, and for one terrifying moment, I teetered between flight and stability.  
  
I dropped.  
  
It was a long fall out of that tower window, and I screamed like a five- year-old the entire time I plummeted. My body spun in the updraft and I thrashed helplessly. Save me! Oh, someone save me! Tarrant, where's your chivalry now? Oh, please, catch me!  
  
I landed with a soft thud in Dante's arms, still shrieking. I thrashed my arms; hands balled into fists, and kicked my legs in terror. Dante calmed me by placing two handsome fingers against my lips. Bullfrogs, why his fingers? It just couldn't be his lips, could it? Not even after what I'd just gone through to save his worthless skin. Handsome foreigners get me every time.  
  
And then he kissed me. Just as I'd lost faith in him. And let me tell you, it was HOT. That man could kiss like nobody's business. I wanted some more of this; I wanted a LOT more of this. All the time. Was this love? Was that why I was so inexplicably attracted to his decided lack of wit and bad hygiene? Was that why his rude comments and clueless male behavior drew me into his embrace?  
  
Eugh! I should hope not.  
  
Suddenly, Piper came running towards us. Her hair was matted with wet cowlicks, and her hands were splattered with blood. "Have you seen Dashing?" she asked, face haggard with worry. She was carrying an irascible- looking garden gnome in her arms. "Who's that?" 'This is Pafoofka, the kleptomaniac garden gnome. I found him the jasmine garden, and he's agreed to help." She swatted his thieving hand away from her flute.  
  
Dante lowered me onto the ground. He was watching her nervously, deep in thought. I, for one, was wondering:  
  
a.) When was Dante going to kiss me again?  
  
b.) Did Piper notice that Pafoofka had her purse?  
  
c.) When was Dante going to kiss me again?  
  
d.) Did Piper notice that Pafoofka had slipped a ring off her finger?  
  
e.) Was Tarrant REALLY picking his nose?  
  
f.) No, was that AURORA picking her nose? Speaking of the princess, Aurora asked, "What's happened?" with both arms wrapping around Tarrant's waist.  
  
"Jocelyn's been stabbed, and it's the royal dagger done the job."  
  
*** *** *** *** *** **  
  
A/N: Well, me hardies, hopefully you can guess who made the attempt at murder! And, as always, thank you soooo much for reviewing and/or reading! 


	18. THE Ball VI: Tuneful Witchery

A/N: All right, the klepto gnome is actually based on a conversation I had with my friends. We were pretending to be a Southern dysfunctional family, and the shortest of my friends were our magical talking klepto garden gnome that we bought from Alabanians on E-bay. Lol. And Hyrene doesn't really have a meaning. I've only played Zelda once, and it was just so I could ride the horse and try to drown Link. Lol.  
  
Enjoy!

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Aurora POV

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We were all following Piper as instructed, and it was quite a task keeping up. "I've got both Mary and Bo there, too," she prattled, waving her hands as she walked. Pafoofka reached forward to grab her flute, and she smacked his hand away.  
  
So far, I had come to the realization that we were going to help her scare the living souls out of a dozen royal physicians in the garden. I was actually quite worried. Some of them were elderly, and would be easily shocked. I dearly wished to be safe from the horrors of a heart attack. Tarrant grinned reassuringly at me, and I could not help but reply with an equally forceful smile. He kissed the crown of my head warmly. "I'm sorry about the other day," he murmured. I shrugged nonchalantly, wrapping both arms round his one. "It is of no consequence." And, in truth, it was so. I did not care if he had lost his control in a foolish bout of distress; he had rescued me from a most dire plight, just like the knights in all the stories.  
  
"Do you love me, Tarrant?"  
  
"Of course I do."  
  
Yes, that was most assuredly all that mattered.  
  
Rapunzel and Dante were shoving each other, and to my surprise, Rapunzel was winning. "He's letting her win, you know," Tarrant whispered. I smirked, liking the way his lips tickled my ear.  
  
Piper, however, seemed much more anxious than the rest of us, as she was currently ten feet ahead of us. "Hurry up!" she hollered, whirling around and bending forward slightly in aggravation.  
  
We all raced to meet her pace, which grew quicker with each moment. She was worried about Jocelyn; that much was quite obvious.  
  
We arrived at the circle of royal physicians. They were clustered in a small circle round something, which I supposed to be Jocelyn, their stark white robes gleaming in the moonlight. Mary and Bo were posing hesitantly by the fringes of that learned circle, fingering their hair and muttering nervously.  
  
Piper stalked over to them, gripping her flute firmly in one hand. "Well?" she snapped, cocking her head to the left. Mary stepped forward, hands clasped together beneath her chin. "They – He is convinced he is dying; they have told him so."  
  
"That's codswallop!"  
  
"He did bite one of them, though," Bo added helpfully.  
  
Piper lifted the flute to her lips with a sigh, but did not play. She frowned at all of us as some mother with disobedient children would. "Align yourselves round these toads, behind them is preferable. Try not to be noticed, please." A wry smirk twitched at the lines in her face. "At least not yet." Her fingers danced nervously along the holes of her pipe as our feet danced along the grass. I halted the waltz of my own toes a few feet left of Prince Charming, and to my right Tarrant rested. He smiled encouragingly at me, and I simpered in return, quietly praying for both Jocelyn and those encircling him.  
  
Piper began to play. The first few notes of her haunting tune rolled outward like waves of fog, and the tendrils of it twisted the air to its will. My heart froze within me as the sound and its poignant willpower bound me; there was cold and nightmare circling the garden, twisting flower after flower into beast and creature in the mind's eye. The dust of study was not enough to protect the royal physicians from the marrow-deep chill of Piper's song. The learned men stood straight and peered wildly around them in search of the source.  
  
Suddenly, cries of panic sprang through the air, splintering the frozen ice that was the song. "My knife is missing!"  
  
"The wolfesbane as well!"  
  
"Poultices, too!"  
  
"Where's my snagroot?"  
  
"Where have they gotten to?"  
  
They did not notice the small little gnome darting under their legs, wooden arms full of surgical tools and herbs. He winked at me in his short dash, and tilted his head towards Piper. She was gone. Yet the music still played.  
  
The physicians, turning in their various searches, caught sight of us. And for some reason, our faces gave them quite the fright. They screamed in horror and raced from the area, abandoning their patient easily. Rapunzel and Dante took full advantage of this momentary fright, and egged them on with roars and howls befitting beasts. I slowly brought my hands into claws and hissed. As I did this, feeling quite foolish, I looked over at Tarrant to try and get him to join me in this fool's act. What I saw scared the dickens out of me.  
  
His formerly white teeth had become a horrible shade of spinach green, and they formed curling fangs that bent under his chin. His eyes were a nasty piercing ginger, and his lips a chapped purple. His tanned skin had taken on an indigo shade of death.  
  
My appearance was obviously similar, for he backed away quickly, eyes wide with horror. What witchery was this that had made my love into a beast? I felt my own cheek, expecting scales or fur. It was the same as it had always been. I fingered my hair, and found it to be the same light blonde it had always been. Why then did Tarrant fear me so?  
  
Amidst the retreating footfalls of the royal physicians, Piper suddenly reappeared. Her flute was in her hands, and she was grinning wickedly. Tarrant's evil appearance vanished as quickly as she had resurfaced, much to my relief. At the surprise on my face, she giggled. "It was only an illusion, Aurora. Had you touched him, he would be the same as he always was."  
  
Both Tarrant and I sighed in relief, though I was still hesitant to come near his teeth. However, I allowed for his strong arms to wrap themselves round me, and curled readily into his embrace. The inviting blue eyes peered down into mine, and I swear that I could have fainted in relief. Normal, human blue eyes; handsome, strong, human arms. Thank all goodness for that.  
  
Piper dropped her flute unceremoniously and knelt down beside Jocelyn, who was having trouble breathing. He whimpered quietly when he saw her, and tried to sit up. She gently pushed him back down, cooing. "Hush, hush. You'll be fine in but a moment, I promise." His fingers were clutching the hilt of the dagger in a death hold, and he was quaking with pain. "I'm not that stupid, Piper." He winced, trying to pull the nasty weapon out of his stomach. She stopped him as kindly as she could. "Remember what I said about my pipe? How it's not exactly what it seems?" He nodded dumbly, seeming quite ill. "Baldechrit," he gasped, shuddering hand jerking forward to seize hers.  
  
I backed away, wondering if he would die soon.  
  
Piper reached for her discarded pipe and smiled at him. "Pity we couldn't get Archibald, eh?" He nodded, face deathly pale and lips an odd color. "Would have been a lovely scheme, it would." Piper smiled at him again. "A grand one, I'm sure." She squeezed his thin hand with such force that it stopped shaking. "This is going to hurt," she warned, reaching for the dagger's hilt.  
  
The gold and jewels that snaked round the handle glimmered in the moonlight, calling attention to its worth.  
  
I guess it was just too much for the little gnome.  
  
Pafoofka dashed across the lawn and ripped the dagger from Jocelyn's stomach. The wounded did not even release a grunt of pain it had been so quick. "Mine! Mine! Mine!" The little gnome laughed maniacally as it dashed off with the blade. Piper blinked a few times in surprise. "I suppose that's one way to do it," she mumbled, making Jocelyn laugh.  
  
However, laughter was obviously rather painful, because he soon stopped, clutching his bleeding side. Piper helped him sit up while the rest of us stood around them uselessly. I wondered on what grounds Piper drew her vain hope. It was obvious to us all that he was dying – a painstaking, agonizing death to be sure.  
  
After being assured that he could keep himself upright, Piper stood. Her eyes fell to the grass, which was now a deep crimson color. I think, for that moment, she realized what a hopeless cause this endeavor was. But then Jocelyn smiled weakly at her, cocking his head to the side. Her expression flashed with pain for a single hesitant breath, but Jocelyn's return simper brought renewed determination sparking to her eyes. I wrapped both arms around Tarrant. There was nothing we could do.  
  
Piper brought the flute to her lips and closed both eyes. Something in that music made me feel oddly happy, as if there were nothing wrong with the world. I was, after all, with my dear Tarrant. Nothing could possibly be so wrong that I need be disturbed by this sight. I stared at my fingers in amazement. I had all five of them; how lucky I was! And what was this? Both eyes as well? What a stroke of good fortune!  
  
And I noticed that my injured knuckle was no longer bruised.  
  
My head snapped up and I stared at Jocelyn, who was as shocked as I. Slowly, deliberately, his gaping wound was closing up. He stared at Piper in fascination as she continued to calmly whistle out the notes. In fact, we were all staring at her. How did she do that?  
  
It took nearly five minutes of that music to close up the wound, but it was finally done, and Piper was desperately proud of herself. She knelt down beside Jocelyn, face crimson with exertion. "Are you all right?" she asked, brushing hair from her face. He nodded slowly still watching her with caution.  
  
"Pity you lost so much blood before I could get to you," she whispered, quite breathless from her recent melody. He shrugged. "I'm alive."  
  
That broke the tension, and Piper laughed. "Hopefully, eh?" Both of them grinned at each other, and I thought I saw something there that just mayhap had been there along. Tarrant obviously noticed it as well, for he raised his eyebrow. I nodded and smiled tolerantly. There was most assuredly something there.

* * *

A/N: I hope you liked this one! And, once again, thanks for reviewing and/or reading! Either way you rock!!! 


	19. THE BALL VII: A Disinclined Blossom

A/N: Sorry to any readers who were confused about Tarrant's 'transformation'. It was indeedie a result of Piper's magic. She used it to scare the crap out of the royal medics. Hehehe. I have issues w/explaining things. Sorry about that!  
Note:: _sine Hyrene_ = Latin for 'without Hyrene'

* * *

Mary POV

* * *

Of course, just as everything was going perfectly well, something had to go dreadfully awful. My skirts were actually in a decent state, though there were a few dirt stains near my ankles. My hair hung in neat ringlets without a single frizzed strand. For once, I was presentable.  
And then Lady Malifice leapt from the tower and landed right on my back. My head slammed into the dirt, and my knees squelched right into the particularly wet grass. Rodents and Bullfrogs!  
She screamed something completely inaudible and hopped off of my back. I lifted my head just in time to see her raise a particularly vicious- looking club in the air and scream something in Latin. A torrent of blue fire streamed out of her bludgeon/wand and hit Prince Charming square in the chest. He fell backward and would not stir.  
Ella screamed in outrage and lunged at the witch. She, too, was taken out by the blue magic. The others quickly followed suite, even Bo lashed down by the sorcery.  
Jocelyn, in typical male fashion, headed straight for her in a sad attempt to grab the wand. She arched an eyebrow and lazily pointed at him. "Amateur," she mumbled, quickly followed by the Latin. I flinched, waiting for Jocelyn to fly high into the air. But I had obviously underestimated him.  
He ducked down into a slide, bombing towards the enchantress. I couldn't help smirking at the utter shock at Malifice's face. Served her right for ruining my dress. Jocelyn's outstretched leg slammed into her shin and she roared with anger, kicking him square in the chin. But swineherds were obviously used to worse, because he responded by sinking his teeth into her hand. She screeched and flailed, shaking him like a rag doll – rat teeth are very painful. He clawed frantically for her wand and kicked her face furiously like some sort of animal, desperately pursuing that club. My mouth lay open on the ground, but Piper's was twisted into a satisfied smirk. She looked rather proud of him, believe it or not. The indecency.  
Jocelyn's bony hand locked around Malifice's wand, and he screamed something in Hyrene, obviously a bit of what Dashing's citizens would call 'rat magic'. But nothing happened. Malifice grinned maliciously at him, bending forward. "My wand was made _sine Hyrene_, swineherd. Vermin magic defense system built right in."  
Jocelyn's eyes went wide as he stared at the club, which was now a glowing blue color. "Baldecricht."   
Her enchantment sent him flying at least fifteen feet across the field. He was, despite being the same age as the rest of us, very light, and therefore easy to catapult across a garden.  
Piper snarled at Malifice and quickly brought the pipe to her lips. Three deft blasts to the mouthpiece and suddenly he wasn't falling – he was floating, just lounging frozen in the air a few feet above our king's rock garden. He arched a surprised eyebrow at the musician, but she ignored him and blew again, this time bringing him safely to the ground. Jocelyn's toe tips brushed the grass. Satisfied that he was safe, Piper snapped around to face the witch instantly, dropping him. There was a loud snap behind her and he swore, hands going to his ankle. "Baldericht, Piper, you're impatient."   
As if he had never spoken, she sneered, "Care to play?", fury in her eyes as she glared at Malifice. Forgetting his ankle for a moment, Jocelyn smiled approvingly. Everything in his face seemed to radiate – Isn't she something?   
Malifice opened her mouth, prepared to let the Latin stream out once more.   
Piper arched a challenging eyebrow and took her lips to the pipe.   
And there went a battle of sorcery that lasted quite some time.   
Piper used her music to keep Lady Malifice's attacks back, and Lady Malifice tried desperately to break the defenses. She was truly furious that a simple wooden pipe could keep her magic at bay, screeching until her voice was hoarse, charging and retreating in her madness. Now there was a lack of good breeding. Ah, but Piper was impassable; she parried and swerved expertly, all the time playing at the music that made her glowing red defenses. She was confident, as if this were a game and she was only playing at it until she wanted to win. No one would ever break her defenses. But no resistance can last forever.  
It soon became clear that Malifice was winning. Piper's breath grew shallow, and the tune was not quite so loud as it had been. Blue magic grew ever closer to its victim.   
I stood up, ready to charge Malifice from behind. She hadn't seen me yet. But, of course, Pafoofka beat me to it.  
The little gnome leapt into the sky, almost out of thin air, and snatched her club-sized wand with the agility that only a foot-high creature can master. Cackling madly, the wooden dwarf dashed off into the bushes again, screeching "Mine! Mine! Mine!" in his high-pitched voice.  
Malifice screamed and tried to stop the little wooden bugger, but there's no catching a kleptomaniac garden gnome, especially after he's got a good treasure. Piper grinned wickedly at the trapped witch and blasted out the most jarring note I have ever heard.  
Malifice howled in pain, clutching her ears, and collapsed on the ground. She did not move, eyes and mouth frozen wide with shock and fury. Exactly five seconds later, a loud pop filled my ears. The Lady Malifice was now a plump pink chrysanthemum.  
Jocelyn looked up from his aching ankle to see what had just happened. He laughed merrily when he saw the third-most powerful witch in all the kingdoms planted in the meadow, plump and cheerful and harmless. I stared at the petite blossom for a few minutes, sure it must still be evil. Yet what could be so wicked about a plant? And then Aurora tittered. Rapunzel snorted. Dante snickered. Charming smiled. Ella smirked. Tarrant brought both his eyebrows sky high. We all burst into laughter.

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A/N: Worry not. 'Tis not the end quite yet. We must find Dashing and figure out what he and Malifice's motives were. Who in the realms of weasels Jocelyn is we can find in 3 chapters, I think. And you guys are such great reviewers! squeals w/delight You rock!!!!


	20. Ball VIII:Bewshiskered Paramours

A/N: All right, you all have my freely-given permission to say I am the biggest loser ever because it took me so bleeping long to update. I had a brainstorm on one of my other stories and totally changed the plot, so I neglected this one. I'm so sorry you had to wait! Forgive me! (and cue the groveling. lol) But enjoy it anyways!

* * *

Aurora POV

* * *

"Father!" Charming screamed, storming through the dense woodland. Jocelyn arched both eyebrows and crossed his arms. "Do you really think the old bastard is going to admit to attempted murder?" he snapped. Charming glowered at him, the irritation he felt in regard to the dethroned king vibrantly obvious. "That is my father you speak of, VERMIN"

"And your FATHER has tormented me for eight years!" came Jocelyn's ringing reply, "I've every right to insult the weasel-hearted monster!"

I was worried that the both of them would hurt each other soon, so I quickly tried to change the tone of such conversation. "Lovely weather we're having, isn't it?" I asked politely. Jocelyn cocked both ears and arched an eyebrow. "If you're fond of rain, I suppose, milady." He turned his face to the sky, dimly visible through the treetops. Lady Sky had aged suddenly and wore hair of a sullen gray, swirls of light storm cloud lacing white through her trembling mane.

"We know you rats would be fond of it," Charming sneered.

"But murderers even more so," Jocelyn snapped in return, ears rigid. Charming was still skeptical about his claim that Dashing had tried to murder him, and it was clearly infuriating him. I wished that Charming would just believe the story, but I suppose I would not believe my father to be a murderer.

And mayhap Jocelyn should have shown more sympathy in his accusation, instead of coldly naming 'the royal no-wit' and muttering rude words in Hyrene. It did make him seem rather biased, but honesty is highly esteemed by his people…and it was not possible that he could hate Dashing more than someone who stabbed him…

Jocelyn cocked his ears again. "Rat nest nearby," he commented absently.

"Rat _nest_?" I asked in surprise.

Jocelyn shrugged diffidently, but when he saw it was me, his face softened "Contrary to popular belief, rats nest underground, sort of like rabbits," he offered.

I smiled encouragingly. His eyebrows and his eyes weren't colliding like two carts in a road anymore. "Really?"

"Yes. They only _scavenge_ alone. It's common sense, really. They are harder to catch that way."

I was about to reply when someone yelled.

"Who's that?" Rapunzel barked, snapping me out of our conversation. She gestured to the pretty young girl entering the clearing. The girl's impish features were crowned with warm brown curls, and a bright scarlet cape hung cheerfully about her petite shoulders. She was lovely, though I am no man and therefore no judge of such things. But she had such an odd look about her; I could not place a name to it. A string was out of place with this living crimson tapestry, and I had yet to touch upon it.

"Scarlet!" Mary and Bo squealed, and they rushed forward to embrace their friend. Jocelyn stuck his tongue out far as it would go as this new visitor, but grinned sarcastically when she turned to him. She looked him up and down derisively, a superior disdain washing over her face. "Charmed, I'm sure, Vermin," she sneered. He muttered a few inappropriate curses in Hyrene, but was soon distracted as another guest entered the clearing.

A wolf. Standing on his hind legs. Rapunzel snorted. "Look, Tarrant, it's your twin brother," she muttered, looking the creature up and down. I scowled reproachfully at her, horrified that my friend would be so rude. But, as usual, Rapunzel was oblivious to good manners.

Scarlet, clearly as oblivious, broke free of the shepherdesses and scowled at her. "He is most certainly more interesting than your commonplace knight." My mouth dropped open in shock at the uncouth edge of this girl's tongue. How dare she! But she grinned adoringly up at the wolf, heedless of her horrible manners. "He is such a marvelous sort of stranger…."

Jocelyn cocked an eyebrow and an ear. "You can't be serious."

Scarlet glowered at him. "Shut your biscuit-hole, rat boy. What do you know of love?"

"Enough to see that it's a single-species operation."

Scarlet snarled at him, clinging to the wolf's chest hair. "You love me, don't you?" she asked sweetly, turning her glowing ruby lips toward the creature. He grinned ferociously, glittering rows of dagger-sharp teeth meeting one another. "You are positively delicious, dear Scarlet. A scrumptious morsel to be consumed slowly and deliberately."

Jocelyn's mouth hung slack, slumping forward and downward in unison with his shoulders. "Is the irony of that speech really just _soaring_ over your head?" he asked, dumbfounded at what he interpreted as stupidity. I had to admit, the girl was rather foolish to consort so closely with a beast, but mayhap his intentions were honest.

Charming forced Jocelyn behind his own arm, frowning. I winced as the dethroned Hyrene king fell backwards, but he was unharmed. "Your social life is not of consequence, Miss. We are actually on the search for my father, King Dashing."

Jocelyn snorted, twitching an ear and looking up from the ground. "About as tall as princeling here, twice the girth, thrice the stupidity," he snapped, "Looks quite a bit like your wolf over there, but hairier."

I put my hand on his shoulder, trying to restrain his insults. His head snapped around, jaw clamping together as if he were considering biting me. I eased backwards slowly. Jocelyn was not in the BEST of his moods tonight.

"Shut it, Joc," Piper barked, "We have to find Dashing."

"Well then!" the Hyrene ruler cried, flinging his arms into the air and standing, "Let's just call the Devil and ask him if he's seen his TWIN around lately!"

"I told you to keep quiet, pig-boy!" Charming yelled, glaring poisoned daggers at his opponent.

At this point, Jocelyn began a passionate cursing rampage in the quick-tongued language of his fathers, gesturing rapidly with his hands at trees, rocks, the sky, the grass, a bird, a bush--- I only understood about half of it, and the half I did understand was a long list of ancient hexes and insults directed at Charming and his father.

Piper muttered something in Hyrene and he whirled around, snapping out the thousands of quick clipped syllables that made up his language. She babbled just as ferociously in return, with the same rolling, darting, meandering, frantic gestures he employed. What an odd tongue it was, that Hyrene.

Finally he was quiet, panting with fury and exertion. "Baldechrict," was the final protest he offered, fists clenched tightly to lock around his rage and keep it away from Charming.

"Rats have no manners," Scarlet sniffed, flipping a perfect curl away from her dimpled face, "And I don't help people without manners." She turned her nose upward, hefting her chin in the process, and gave a tremendous snort of her nostrils.

"Well, that cold's going to cause your lover over there some indigestion!" Jocelyn snapped, a mocking smirk spread across his face. Scarlet started towards him, face flushed with a concoction of embarrassment and indignation, but Piper stepped in her path. "Up yours, stranger girl. Where's Dashing?"

"Why should I tell you? You hardly have manners either! What kind of lady dresses as a man?"

Jocelyn grabbed a rock and flung it at her head, but Piper blasted a discordant high note and the missile exploded midair. We all gasped in communal awe at the shards of stone, which had frozen in their flight towards us. I looked questioningly at Tarrant, and he smiled encouragingly, so I stretched a finger forward to pluck one of the motionless pieces. It was bitterly cold, floating in lifeless ice among our breath, and even a touch of the fingertip sent harsh chills through my bones.

In the silence provided by Piper's magic, Vermin's ears cocked. "Dashing," he whispered, "He's the in the forest, within a half mile, I would guess."

"Where is he, Scarlet?" Piper asked again, calm and collected. "It would do you well to tell me, unless you like your wolf well-roasted."

Scarlet scowled furiously at both the musician and the smirking swineherd beside her.

"He's hiding out in the Sugar-Drape Motel, you fools." She crossed her arms and blew at another stray curl. "I know, because it's right next to my grandmother's place."

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A/N: Thanks again for reading! I have the best reviewers on and everybody knows it! - And what really makes my day is when the same reviewers keep coming back. You guys are really the best! 


	21. THE BALL IX: Saccharine Dwellings

A/N: Again, I took way too long to update, and I'm really sorry:-( But first I had finals and then my cousins were up for 3 weeks. It was hectic. But aside from my excuses---

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Ella POV

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We all stared at the house before us.

"You can't be serious." Jocelyn was shaking his head.

I looked over at him. "I am."

"Are you serious? Are you baldechrit well serious?"

We were standing before a house made entirely of gingerbread. Delicate icing around the doorposts, gumdrop doorknobs, chocolate mold curtains, sugar crystal windows and licorice shutters – it was a candy store motel.

"Yes, swineherd, she's serious!" Charming snapped, growing irritated with Jocelyn's uncharacteristic bad temper. "What is wrong with you tonight?"

Jocelyn made a rude gesture with his fingers, which involved cocking his ears and shoving his thumb at Charming's eyes.

Piper sighed. Jocelyn was taxing _all _of us tonight. "Being brought back from near death _does _tend to bring out the pricklier side of people, Charming," she said, "Especially if nobody told Death about it."

"Well then," Jocelyn cried, throwing his hands up in the air, "since I've already knocked so rudely on Death's door, I suppose I'll give this eyesore's door a few whacks, too." He slammed his fist obnoxiously against the door and crossed his arms. "Anybody home?"

I opened my mouth to warn him, but then thought better of it. The rat-faced halfwit had it coming, what with the attitude he'd given my Charming.

The door swung open and hit Jocelyn on his nose. Two _very _ugly women stood on the threshold, staring down at the swearing swineherd. The taller was dark-haired, one huge eyebrow stretching across her face. Her eyes were pecan-shaped in her square head, and a rather large nose hooked downward into a nasty point that ended just in front of her upper lip. Her huge nostrils flared as we met eyes, and my fists clenched instinctively.

_Grizelda. _

And beside her, the cruel redhead stood, red arms crossed in front of her chest. Freckles dotted every inch of her skinny body. Frizzy hair was brought into an unruly twist atop her head, and her enormous green eyes were the size of quarters, bulging out from her sallow face. A razor-thin nose ran down her face, ending with a huge glowing red bulb. Aside from her yellow face and red arms, the rest of her had a nasty green hue to it.

_Drizella. _

I clenched my fists even tighter, fighting that ever-strong urge to strangle both of them. Lady Malifice's two hideous daughters stood before me in all their eye-burning glory. Too bad I didn't turn to stone. Stone eyes don't have to look.

They were, by law, my _sisters. _Step-sisters, of course, but sisters all the same. Bleugh. I couldn't stand either one of them. Drizella the dribbling red-head. Grizelda the man-woman wonder. How shocking that they were still single.

Pfft!

For once tonight, Jocelyn was quiet, obviously shocked by the gruesome sight. Try seeing them at nine in the morning, bucko. "Toads and weasels…" He trailed off, mouth useless and slack. Charming, beside him, was equally speechless, though he turned to me, eyes pleading for help.

"Dashing's here and we know it," I snapped, eyeing Grizelda. Being the aggressive man-woman driven by testosterone, she was the master of business issues and the one I had to talk to about customers.

"And what if you do, Cinders?"

My mouth dropped a bit and I twisted my jaw to the left. Go ahead, chump. Say it again. Say that name one more time. I dare you.

Drizella snorted. "Don't you mean Cinders_Ella_?" she teased, smirking derisively at me. They both snickered, leaning towards one another like it was some great private joke.

I got your joke right here, ladies.

My fist made smashing contact with the sensitive red lump of cartilage on Drizella's nose. She squealed nasally, arms slamming into the doorpost as they flailed. But she fell on her fat rump anyways, and then the least important part of her – that head she never used – dropped onto the floorboards with a suspiciously hollow thud.

"Violence ain't getting you anywhere with me, pretty girl," Grizelda sneered, arms crossed as she advanced. Aw, crud. I always forgot about her---

"Then how about this?"

We both snapped our heads around to see what it was. There was Jocelyn, arms spread wide and a devilish smirk across his face. But it wasn't anything above the waist that amazed me.

Running in hordes over his feet and in circles round our entire group were _rats. _Piles upon piles of _rats_. I moved closer to Charming, backing away from the swineherd. Hornets and beetles, that was creepy.

Charming turned his gorgeous eyes to mine and we both gulped.

But Grizelda was the one in real terror. "No! Don't let those vermin eat our house!" she bellowed, straining her man's voice as close to a scream as she could get. Jocelyn grinned maniacally, bringing his hand upward. "I cock my ears at just the right angle…"

"Dashing's in the chocolate room. Third floor. Purple door. Can't miss it." She threw her key ring at him, fear in her eyes. "Just go, please! And don't let those rats eat our motel!" Jocelyn grinned maniacally and strode towards the gingerbread monstrosity, his army trailing him. He was obviously quite proud of himself, swinging the key ring and brushing shoulders with the man-woman fearlessly on his way in. The rats didn't follow him inside, but they kept watch outside, staring up at my ugly stepsisters.

I grinned obnoxiously at Grizelda. The swineherd who had just knocked her in the shoulders was likely one of the easiest people to bully I have ever seen. But he'd just gotten the better of her. And she knew it, watching him retreat into the sugary recesses of her hotel. Oh, revenge was sweet. (No pun intended)

Ever since Lady Malifice had married my father, life had gone straight down the well. We had to move into the palace and deal with countless young noblemen seeking our hands. Unfortunately for the two ugly ducklings, most of them had been smitten with _me. _Malifice couldn't stand it, and the night after she and my father had an argument over whether I was a whore or not, he was found dead in his bed. It looked like natural causes to everyone else, but I'd seen the blue glow on his fingers.

Not an hour after the funeral I was shipped off to the king's kitchens. Drizelda and Grizelda were given _my _inheritance of the Gingerbread Hotel, thanks to Dashing's intervention on their behalf. May they all rot.

And now the tables had turned and they were the ones being toyed with. By a dethroned king who was at least thirty pounds underweight and bleeding from his nose.

Celebratory champagne anyone?

I grabbed onto Charming's strong arm and smiled lovingly at him. Toads and newts, he was gorgeous. He smirked awkwardly in return, still struck with horror from his encounter with my stepsisters. I kissed his forehead and led him into the gingerbread hotel, sure to stride confidently toward the doorway. Grizelda considered stopping me, but at that moment she heard the loud squeak of Jocelyn's rodents. I bobbed my head grinningly at her, completely content with the way that things were going.

"Baldechrit!" I peered up a stairway of white chocolate, knowing that particular curse had come from Jocelyn. "Is something wrong?" I called, placing a hand on the stair rail. The Gorgon twins had seriously damaged the delicate molding of the railing; neglect and ignorance had worn away the once-crisp carving of a flying bird. Typical.

"Get Piper up here!" he cried in return, amidst a shuffling of papers. I hopped outside and grabbed Piper by the arm to drag her up the stairs. "Jocelyn needs you," I snapped, flinging her towards the staircase. She tore up them, sure that Dashing was up there trying to stab him again. Charming and I came in close pursuit.

We drove through the doorway, crashing into Piper and landing hard on our tailbones. She was standing not two inches in front of us, intently reading some worn piece of parchment as if nothing had struck her. I brushed a few stray curls from my face and surveyed the rest of the room. Jocelyn sat cross-legged atop the pillow of Dashing's recently vacated bed, biting at a thumbnail as he pored over a piece of parchment. A few rats scurried about the room, and one was on his ear, dropping any parchment they found in the stack at his feet. He looked up and turned to Piper. "See what I mean?" he asked, picking up a long sheet of bright green.

Piper nodded, for once unable to find the words.

Charming and I looked at one another, eyebrows arched. "What are they talking about?" he whispered. I shrugged. "Who knows?"

"Erm…Jocelyn?" I called, and he turned around. "Do you mind telling us what's going on?"


End file.
